The Dark Feline
by Jasmine Scarthing
Summary: Sequel to 'Catgirl Begins'. It's been nine months since Annie had the incredible adventure of becoming Catgirl. Now a 13-year-old seventh grader, she deals with the troubles of fitting in, dances, crushes, and rich girls. What happens when the Joker-and a certain harlequin-swing dance their way into Gotham? Rated T for cursing and violence. Also romance-strictly PG-13, but romance.
1. Prologue

___**Prologue**_

It's been a long time.

To be honest, I'm not sure how to begin this.

I'll tell you what age I am now, for starters. I'm close to fourteen years old now.

It's January of 2007, and right now, I'm busily writing my 'autobiography' of 2006. Damn, 2006. That was quite a year.

How was it quite a year, you ask? Well, you'll have to read my story to find out.

* * *

_A/N: Yeah, WAY early for a sequel to be published, I know. But it's spring, and what better way to celebrate by publishing a story? LOL :)_

_But in all seriousness, I hope SOMEBODY came here, or TRIED to read Catgirl Begins all the way. To anybody who did either of those, major kudos._


	2. A Normal Life

**Chapter One: A Normal Life**

Well, there it was. That alarm clock.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Dang it. Was five minutes of sleep too much to ask?

Sighing, I pushed myself out of bed and got ready.

It was the middle of March, and I was a young thirteen.

* * *

A lot had happened since last time. I wasn't Catgirl anymore, and back then, I didn't want to be. Well, maybe I did. But that had been trampled by my annoying logical side.

Anyway.

"I wonder what will happen today," I murmured as I pulled on a pink, flowy shirt and dark blue jeans. I grabbed my backpack, my favorite hot pink gel pen, and set out.

To brush my teeth. How incredibly exciting.

I'm sorry about my grumpiness. Everybody is a little cranky when they wake up.

I brushed my teeth, humming 'Happy Birthday', and combed my long brown hair. I'd have to do something with it one of these days.

Too bad Marissa wouldn't be there. Even though she had been mean sometimes, she had been my only friend.

I thought about English and drama and felt a little better.

We were reading Thomas Wayne's biography in English, and doing Gone With the Wind in drama. I hadn't scored the part of Scarlett, but I loved acting all the same.

Well, looked like this school day was going to be great after all!

After I was done, I rushed into the kitchen to see Mom and Dad.

"Hello!" I greeted them, feeling pretty darn chipper.

"Hi, Annie," Dad said tiredly, and Mom smiled at me.

"You ready for school?" Dad added.

"Yep!" I said brightly. "Today's gonna be great! I hope."

"There's one other thing you forgot, missy," Mom said playfully. "Today's carpool day!"

"CARPOOL DAY?" I screamed. That was the day when Mason and I went to school together. Which was every Wednesday.

Today was Wednesday!

I didn't _love _Mason, but he was my friend, and...yeah.

A loud knocking sounded on my door. "Hello? I'm here for a little bouncy kid who has long hair and blue eyes! Have you seen her?"

* * *

Laughing, I opened the door to see Mason, my hilarious guy friend, look down at me with a big grin on his face. He was a tall guy-although only in eighth grade, he already looked like a high schooler.

"Hello, Mason! How nice to see you," Mom greeted him, but Dad looked at him with hard eyes.

I couldn't blame him. I liked Mason just fine, but Dad knew that Mason had done something to me back in June.

Of course, he had redeemed himself, and now we were buddies. Duh.

Yeah, dear reader. If you look at the last chapters of my other story, you'll see why such a magnificent development happened.

"Hi, there, Mr. Gaylewood, sir," Mason said to Dad, obviously sensing the suddenly tense atmosphere.

"Tom, he's a good kid. He's changed!" Mom pleaded.

I'd told Mom and Dad about everything between Mason and I last July. Mom had been pretty cool about it-_after_ I had told her about him helping me. Before that, she'd been ready to break his hand.

No, I'm not kidding.

As for Dad, he had been ready to break Mason's hand the second I told him, and still was. Ah, fathers.

Dad let out a sigh. "Well, all right. But mess with my daughter, and you'll go home with two black eyes!"

"Of course, Sir Gaylewood," Mason said in a silly deep voice, bowing grandly, and we were off.

* * *

We walked out of my house to face a run-down old Honda.

Mason started proudly talking about Hondas and brands and something else.

Like every teenage girl or grown woman I had ever known, I knew zero about cars. Except that people drove them, and how the brakes and gas pedal worked.

"That is quite the color," I remarked, observing the brown-beige mishmash of neutral colors of the Honda.

"You would know!" Mason joked, and we burst out laughing. I told you he was hilarious!

Did I really like him? I wasn't sure. I mean that way.

Did I?

Nah, I liked Bruce. I still hadn't forgotten about him.

Bruce was...well, Bruce was Bruce. I guess that's all I can say.


	3. Aunt Cara

**Chapter 2: Aunt Cara**

Mason walked over to the car door and opened it. I noticed how it slightly creaked and hung a little from its hinges.

"After you," he smiled. I giggled and got in the car.

There was a woman driving the car. She looked kind of big-boned and had short brown hair.

Brashly, I looked at her. This must be Aunt Cara!

Mason had told me about her once, but I had never met her. Normally, I saw his dad when I went over to his house.

"Um, hello," I said timidly.

"Shh! She's driving," Mason hissed. I shut up immediately.

"Blacksmith, play something, will you?" she said in a lazy tone. "Annie might like something. Too bad the AC doesn't work."

I looked to see that the AC button was, indeed, broken, along with the heating button.

"You got any country songs?" I asked eagerly.

Mason reached his arm to the radio and turned on _The Lucky One _by Faith Hill.

"I love this song!" I squealed.

"God knows why," Aunt Cara grunted.

"Excuse me, Faith Hill is awesome, thank you very much," I retorted.

She laughed. "Kids these days and their new music. You're straightforward about it, at least. That's a good skill."

I smiled. She was right. I'd rather say, "That offends me," than paste a big smile on my face and throw back some sarcastic, convoluted-beyond-belief retort.

Unlike some people, _ahem,_ most kids in school.

I said, "May I ask you something?"

"Fire away," she said gruffly, but with a smile in her voice.

"What's with 'Blacksmith'?" I asked.

"It's Mason here's pet name. Isn't that right, Blacksmith?" She burst out laughing. Her laugh sounded honky and snorty, like a cross between a pig and a big-horned taxi.

"Aunt Cara!" Mason groaned. "Not in front of Annie!"

I laughed and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "It's okay. I like her. She's hilarious!"

"Thank you for the compliment," Aunt Cara grunted. "We're here."

I looked up to see Gotham Junior High looming over us.

* * *

_A/N: I LOVED writing Aunt Cara. 'Nuff said._

_I mean, she's so random and gruff, like Batman, but still hilariously cool. To me._


	4. Drill Sergeant

**Chapter Three: Drill Sergeant**

"Hilarious, yes," Mason replied as the two of us got out. "What class do you have first?"

"P.E.," I answered. I sort of liked P.E. I liked running and swimming and martial arts.

Dodgeball? Soccer? Not so much.

"Lucky. I've got English. At least we're not reading Shakespeare."

I laughed. I knew he liked Shakespeare, even if he said to the contrary. Once, I walked in on him reading _Romeo and Juliet, _and he said that the tragedy was hilarious._  
_

He had been lying.

Suddenly, the warning bell rang. Mason said goodbye and ran off.

I rushed off to P.E., hoping I wouldn't be late.

* * *

"Good morning, class!" my teacher bellowed. He had been a drill sergeant back in 1994, and looked (and acted) the part.

"Good morning, sir!" we yelled back.

"You! Gaylewood!" he barked.

I immediately saluted and stood still as a rod. "Yes, sir! Private Annie reporting for duty, sir!"

Scratch what I said before. I love P.E.

Except that everybody just stood there as if nothing happened. I hated being ignored.

"One lap around the track! Go, go, go!" my teacher commanded. With a smile and another salute, I was off.

I had never been a great runner, until the whole Catgirl thing, in which I majorly strengthened my running abilities.

As I ran, I heard the others coming up behind me. No way, Jose! I was going to win!

And I did. Second place. Gloria had beaten me.

"Good game," I panted, running up to her.

Gloria was one of the rich kids. She wasn't mean, but had a lot of authority around here. She also liked boys, from what I'd heard.

"Thanks," she smiled, and didn't say much else. We stood there, gasping for breath and staring at each other.

Dang, Gloria had style. She had long, curled blonde hair which she kept in a high ponytail, and big green eyes.

And what did I have? Long, straight(ish), _boring_ brown hair, and blue eyes. I _did_ like my eyes, though.

Looking back, I face palmed. I was thirteen, and I didn't know what was really important.

On a side note, I didn't tell you my teacher's name. It was Mr. Smithes. Smythes, it's pronounced.

Mr. Smithes called us to gather in a circle.

"Today we're playing dodgeball," he barked. "No rules. Just throw as hard as you've ever thrown, and try not to get too hurt. Pick your teams! Go!"

I liked teams, but I didn't have a lot of friends to hang out with, let alone_** play ball! **_with.

Darn it.

"Hey, we need one more person!" Gloria called. Without another word, I rushed to where she was. She was standing with a familiar auburn-haired girl. A crowd had gathered around us.

The auburn-haired girl gave me a nod. That was Charlotte, one of the rich girls.

She wasn't mean, either, but she was the ultimate romance guru. She even had an advice column in the school newspaper called _Charlie, My Boyfriend! _for girls with romance problems.

We were in the same math class, and she'd once given me the homework problems when I'd forgotten to write them down.

"Hey, Charlotte! I'll be on your team!" I called brashly.

Oddly, they ignored me.

Well, not oddly. I got ignored a lot, and it sucked.

I didn't know whether to scream or cry, so I was silent.

Then Gloria turned and said, "Oh, hey. Sorry, I zoned out. Want to be on our team?"

I almost did a victory dance.

"Are you kidding? Yes!" I yelled, and joined them.

Ah, younger me. Wanting so badly to fit in and be cool.

I didn't know back then how cool I already was. It reads like a cheesy mean girls flick, but trust me, it's true.


	5. Gloria and Charlotte

**Chapter 4: Gloria and Charlotte**

"So, Annie, what do you like to do?" Charlotte asked as we threw dodgeballs like it was going out of style.

"Um...I like to read, write, practice martial arts, cook, and watch stuff on TV," I blurted out.

"I like fashion, fashion design, and art," Charlotte piped up. "And boys."

I almost laughed thinking of what my twelve-year-old self would have said to that. _Disgusting!_, most likely.

I did like boys-now-but the good ones were few and far between.

"Boys are strange beings," Gloria sighed. "I heard that a man can think about nothing. How is that possible?"

She was right. Thinking means pondering _something_, so thinking about _nothing_ was logically impossible...wait, what?

"You practice martial arts?" Charlotte sounded impressed. "I bet you're a good fighter."

"Sure am, pardner!" I said happily in an exaggerated Southern accent, and we three guffawed with laughter until our sides hurt.

I'd been practicing a lot of martial arts, every day after school in the gym near our house. You could never be too careful.

"Privates! Concentrate on the ball!" Mr. Smithes barked.

"Yes, sir!" Charlotte giggled, and goofily saluted him.

Then she and Gloria started talking about God-knows-what.

"Um, Gloria?" I said nervously.

"Hmm?" she said, turning to me.

"You, uh...you have nice hair," I blurted out.

Oh, god. Oh, GOD.

What had I done? That was just...no. Just no.

It's amazing how my thirteen-year-old self cared so much about what other people thought.

Now I just do what I want, within reason, and if people don't like me?

Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Anyway, we threw dodgeballs until (finally) Mr. Smithes called us into the school gym.

* * *

"Okay! Now we're going to play badminton, in the same teams as dodgeball!" Mr. Smithes commanded. "Ready, go!"

We played badminton, and I grew to like the rule-free game that involved hitting the birdie (a couple of weird guys called it shuttle cock and burst out laughing about it) as hard and fast as you could.

"Why are those guys laughing about shuttle cock?" I asked Charlotte. I was beginning to warm up to her.

"Don't mind them; they have dirty minds," Charlotte said as she whacked the birdie over the net. "It's complicated. Gloria, can you tell her?"

Gloria shook her head. "Don't ruin her innocence, Charlotte!" They laughed.

I was pretty sure they were joking, but it hurt. Just a bit.


	6. A Clown

A/N: The problem with making a story based on The Dark Knight is that unlike Batman Begins, the action happens right away. So while people are robbing banks, poor Annie is attending school.

These chapters are set before the movie begins. It'll happen soon-the action, I mean.

* * *

**Chapter Five: A Clown**

Of course, P.E. happened, and then I had to go to math.

We talked about Pre-Algebra and stuff, and I turned in my homework.

I saw Charlotte, and she smiled at me. I mentally forgave her for laughing at me. Although it still happened a lot.

I didn't have Ms. Nert this year. Instead, I had a woman named Madame Depaul who was very serious about math. But she was nice, too, provided you turned in your assignments and tried hard.

Normal, right?

WRONG!

Why exactly was it wrong?

Well, after math, I was off to science class, when I heard whispering. I turned to see a boy and girl whispering to each other.

I thought they looked at me, and impudently, I stalked up to them and demanded, "Say that to my face."

The boy turned and held his hands up. "Dude, we weren't talking about you! We were talking about"-his voice grew all mysterious-"the _Joker_."

"Huh? Who's that?" I was confused yet intrigued.

"That's the thing," the girl explained. "We don't really know. He didn't do anything in our area, so we're fine. But according to people we see in the Narrows, he's a clown. A killer clown."

A killer clown? That sounded horrible. "Did he do anything weird?"

"Not yet." The boy sounded excited. "But Dad is a cop, and hopefully, he can catch that clown!"

"He's apparently a member of a gang," the girl said clearly. "He's not too high-profile yet, but you want to know what he did?"

I nodded, amazed at this man I was hearing of who just did whatever the heck he wanted. I mean, a CLOWN? That was crazy!

She leaned in and murmured, "I heard he killed a woman by slicing scars in her mouth."

I nearly screamed. How terrible! He did that? What a jerk! I said so.

"Yeah, but he's pretty dangerous," the boy said in a slightly hysterical, yet cautious voice.

"Oh, Leland," the girl scolded him. She turned to me. "Don't mind Leland. He's my boyfriend, but he's just a little excited from all this." She held out her right hand. "Name's Cathy. You?"

I shook it. "Annie. Nice to meet you, Cathy."

"Oh, you stayed with Bruce Wayne," she said, looking like she had just remembered something. She grinned apologetically. "I don't read tabloids, sorry."

"No problem!" I exclaimed. "Everybody knows tabloids are full of trash."

"True, true," she replied, nodding. "Hey, you're in my English class. You're a great writer. Well, see you in English!" And she ran off with Leland.

Awwww!

RING!

Aw. Dang it.


	7. Parveen

**Chapter 6: Parveen**

I had to get to science. I turned and ran to my science class, still thinking about this 'Joker'. Was he real? Was Cathy joking? No. She seemed serious.

But who was he? What was he? Would I ever see him?

DANG IT! I was going to be late!

Luckily, I managed to reach science in time. I walked in and sat down in my seat.

"Good morning, class," my science teacher, Mr. Rajesh Agarwal (I'm surprised I spelled that right) said.

Everybody returned the greeting, vainly trying to pronounce his name, except one girl, who pronounced it perfectly.

And she was sitting three seats away from me.

She looked Indian, that was for sure. Long dark hair, tanned skin, pretty pink glasses, and big brown eyes.

Indians were a lot nicer than people said they were, in my opinion. Yes, they were a little uptight, but that was just how they presented themselves. And that was okay.

"Today, class, we will be doing an activity about the reproductive methods of plants," Mr. Agarwal said. "You and a partner will draw the reproductive system of your choice of flower or plant, and present it to the class on Thursday. Go find a partner now."

Everybody immediately found their friends, and I was left alone.

So was that Indian girl.

"Excuse me?" I said. No reply.

"Excuse me?" I called, louder this time. She turned.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Yes!" I said desperately. "I need a partner."

She smiled. "So do I. Hi. I'm Parveen Ahmed."

"Par-eveen Eh-med?" I said stupidly, trying to pronounce it right. She grinned, and we burst out laughing.

"It's okay, I get that a lot. At least you're nice about it," Parveen said. "Poor Mr. Agarwal. Nobody can pronounce his name right."

I nodded solemnly.

"Do you speak another language?" she asked me suddenly.

I remembered Barbara teaching me French...for one class. "I speak a little bit of French."

"So do I! I'm taking French as an elective," she replied. "Are you?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to take languages in high school."


	8. Annie Likes Mason?

**Chapter Seven: Annie Likes Mason?**

The two of us finished our project after I introduced myself. Predictably, the bell rang.

"Have a nice Wednesday!" Mr. Agarwal called to all of us.

"You, too," I panted.

* * *

It was time for lunch. I sat down by myself and pulled out my lunch- a peanut butter sandwich, carrots, an apple, and a bean-and-cheese burrito. My favorite.

I eagerly began digging in when Charlotte came up to me.

"Hi!" she exclaimed. "Do we have a test in math today?"

"No," I said instantly. "But we do have page 498, #1-17 odd..."

She laughed. "I know, silly. Say, I see you and that Mason guy together a lot. You guys a couple?" She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously.

"N-no!" I sputtered. Boy, was I wrong! "We're just friends, honest!"

She winked. "Well, if you ever need help with him, write to me on _Charlie, My Boyfriend_, okay?"

I nodded dumbly as she sashayed away, as her long auburn hair, sleek yet curly, bounced down her back.

I wondered if I liked him. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't.

Then I heard whispering behind me. I turned to see a couple of kids hissing frantically to each other. Brashly, I listened in.

"I hear this Joker guy's worse than Crane," one whispered.

"Crane? Ugh, don't even talk about him! He killed Stacy!" the other hissed angrily.

Crane. Dr. Crane.

I felt the smile drop off my face as memories of that night came back to me.

All those people screaming and yelling, the inmates, the Scarecrow...

But also me curing them, and Mason redeeming himself, and him becoming my friend.

I smiled and ate my lunch, looking normal on the outside, but feeling rejuvenated on the inside.

* * *

After school was over, I was out at the front of the school when Mason came over to join me.

"Hey there," he said nonchalantly.

"Hi!" I exclaimed, "How was your day?"

"Good enough. I met a girl," he said. I smiled and rolled my eyes jokingly. Mason was a great guy, but he was girl-crazy. I wonder why.

"Let me guess, she's the next supermodel?" I said sarcastically, and grinned.

"Pretty close. I've liked her for a long time," he replied. "Her name's Diana."

"That's such a pretty name!" I gasped. Why did I suddenly feel something bitter deep inside me?

"Sure is. Well, she's pretty tall and has a nice rack," he continued.

"What's a rack?" I was bewildered.

"It's a word guys use to describe a girl's bosom," he said. Then we grinned and burst out laughing.

* * *

"Bosom!" I gasped. "Hilarious! You're so random, in a good way!"

Even he was giggling in his hand. "That was quite an antiquated word, I know. Annie..." He grew serious. "You do _know _what bosom means, right?"

I nodded. "It means chest. Oh! She has good...breasts." There was that bitter feeling again. Was I _jealous_?

Naw! I liked Bruce Wayne (still), not Mason! Mason and I were friends. That was all.

Was it?

It's just that I had the smallest breasts in the history of, well, breasts. I swear, they were barely there.

Ahaha, I was so concerned about such petty things. I wish I had realized sooner that I did like him, instead of being so hung up on being one of the crowd.

"And it's not just that," Mason continued enthusiastically. "She really does understand where I'm coming from. Her family was poor, too."

Okay, now that bitter feeling was times 10. It swirled around in my body, darkening my cheerful mood.

"Sounds great," I whispered, suddenly angry with him. But I didn't know why.

He smiled at me. "Don't be sad. You look cuter when you're cheerful."

Immediately, I perked up. For no identifiable reason.

But I was glad. Being angry sucked!


	9. Catgirl

**Chapter 8: Catgirl**

Then my dad's sleek Toyota pulled up.

"Bye, Mason! See you tomorrow!" I said cheerily, and ran to the car.

"See ya, kid," he called back. That voice...

What was wrong with me?

* * *

"Hi, Dad," I panted, climbing into the back seat.

"Hi there," Dad replied as I buckled my seatbelt. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," I said. "I met this Indian girl in science, and..."

"And?" Dad inquired.

I hesitated. "Dad, is the Joker real?"

He seemed surprised. "Yes, he is. Why? Did something happen in school involving him?"

I shook my head. "No, I met this girl named Cathy. She and her boyfriend heard that some killer clown called 'the Joker' murdered a woman by scarring her face."

Dad sighed. "I hate to say it, Annie, but those kids are right. The Joker is kind of a new criminal, so to speak. He killed a couple of other people before, all in the same way: by scarring their mouths into a Glasgow smile."

"That's horrible! What a jerk!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, he is," Dad said resignedly. "But what are we going to do about it?"

_Catgirl...,_my mind said.

As if reading my mind, Dad said with grim humor, "Even Catgirl can't stop this guy. Annie, don't try it."

"But-" I was stopped by him clearing his throat.

"If you try it, Annie, you're grounded for a week," Dad said decisively. "I didn't pay enough attention to you before, and I don't want Rochelle to come after you again."

"But she's in jail!" I exclaimed.

"She could always break out," Dad said back. "Annie, I just want you to have a normal life and be with your parents, not go outside and get beaten up by thugs."

I smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

We pulled up at my house, and Dad and I got out.

I rushed into my room and pulled off my backpack with a big heave. Well, today I had math homework, science homework, English homework, social studies homework, and homework in everything else except P.E.

This was going to be a long day.

"Let's get this over with," I muttered, and pulled out my math homework on scientific notation.

Despite my dislike of and not-so-great ability in math, I had taken a liking to algebra. There was something about it that made it bearable, sometimes almost cool.

But scientific notation? Not so much.

I went to the family room, put tonight's homework down on the table, and looked in the kitchen to see Mom.

"Hi, Mom!" I said.

"Hi, Annie," she smiled. I love my mother. She's always so sweet to me, even when I don't deserve it. And of course, she's my mom. Enough said. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," I answered. "I made friends with the rich kids, and met somebody new in science!"

"Well, well, looks like my little bookworm is a social butterfly in the making!" Mom laughed. So did I.

"No, I'm not." I was still giggling. "I just hit it off with them, but I am still a dummy in terms of interacting with people." Again, we laughed.


	10. Batman!

**Chapter Nine: Batman!**

I decided I might as well start on my math homework.

I busted my butt on scientific notation for an hour when Dad came in. He looked at me and promptly declared that he would help me.

Luckily, it flew by quickly-with his help.

I had finished my math assignment and was going to get started on my science when I remembered.

It was in my room.

I went to my room and was going to work on my homework when I saw a familiar plastic bag.

_The fire._

Last June, I had gone to stay with Bruce Wayne. But when the evil Ra's al Ghul had tried to obliterate Gotham, said evil man had burned Bruce's house down.

Of course, the stupid tabloids had said that Bruce burned it down _himself_ while drunk. Seriously?

I still shivered from the memory of the fire. That incredible, grand structure, burning down right in front of me...

I grabbed the bag and rummaged through it, making sure all my prized possessions were there.

My hot pink diary was there, filled with my adventures, and so were my other possessions, including...a box.

Confused, I opened the box to see my Catgirl costume.

I slammed it shut and closed my eyes. No. No more Catgirl. Mom and Dad said so.

* * *

I was just about to start my science homework when I heard a swish, a rustle, and saw something black fly in gracefully through the window. Could it be...

"Long time no see, Annie."

Oh, god. Oh, GOD!

It was him.

"Batman!" I hissed excitedly.

"Shh!" he said gruffly. "Your parents will hear us!"

"So, what's new?" I whispered.

He leaned closer. Sorry, Mason, but Batman was my biggest crush!

"This guy called the Joker is running around," Batman said. "I've seen him a couple times before."

I nodded. "Yeah, he sounds like a moron. A mean moron."

"He's mean, but he's not a moron," Batman said gravely.


	11. You Can Help If You Want

_A/N: Sometimes I hate writing this story, because there's so much action in TDK, and I don't know how to fit Annie in it without her parents getting worried! I mean, most of that stuff happens at NIGHT, people!_

* * *

**Chapter 10: You Can Help If You Want**

"You can stop him, Batman. I know you can do it!" I whispered encouragingly.

Batman gave me a look that would make Falcone cry. "Save your enthusiasm, Catgirl. You can help if you want, but the Joker can't be stopped just like that." And he was gone.

I could help...if I wanted?

Naw! I had school! How would I find time?

I looked at my alarm clock. Darn! It was 3:50. I had to be at the gym for exercise by 4:30.

After doing more homework, changed into a baggy gray T-shirt and yoga pants, went to grab an apple and some carrots, and Mom and I were off.

* * *

"Annie, what were you doing in your room?" Mom inquired worriedly as we drove.

"Nothing," I lied. I hated lying. It gave me this murky, bitter feeling deep in my stomach.

I had to admit, I did want to be Catgirl. I wanted to be out there saving people and fighting bad guys and laughing with Batman...

No. No! That was illegal, for crying out loud!

But Batman did it...

Whatever.

_Don't think about it, Annie._

We reached Gotham Gym (what was up with everything being named after Gotham?), and Mom and I got out.

At the gym, Mom joined up with the gym's _Women's Fitness Club. _I heard that they met up on weekends and sipped fruit cocktails while talking about their husbands, and exercised together and shared gossip on the weekdays.

Too bad I didn't have a club like that.

Anyway, I wondered where to go first. I decided to go to the gymnastics section.

* * *

I had been getting better. I was able to do basic moves (duh) and was getting better at more complicated moves like aerial cartwheels and back handsprings.

Of course, I wasn't Olympic level, but I liked to think that I was very good in gymnastics.

I was ready to find a jump rope when I heard somebody struggling to lift something.

"Huh?" I ran into the weightlifting section, ignoring the big hairy men staring at me. Well, I hoped I ignored it well enough.

And guess who was there?

It was freaking Mason! Lifting weights! Was he a stalker?

"Mason! What are you doing here?!" I exclaimed.

He jumped and dropped the weight-right on his chest.

No!

"Are you okay? Did you break a rib?" I asked worriedly, running over and trying to lift the weight off of him.

He grinned at me and did a giant heave. The weight rolled right off of him and he sat up, gasping.

"I might have," he panted. "But I'm good enough. I saw you at the gymnastics section. You're doing great."

Okay, yes, I had a crush on Batman. Mason was just a friend. Right?

Then why did that compliment make my insides feel like warm mush?

I smiled, too. "Aw, thanks! You're doing well, too. I can't imagine lifting weights."

"Actually, there are some smaller weights over there," he said, pointing eastward. "I see girls use those all the time. Try it."

I nodded and walked up to the weights. I chose the smallest ones, 2-pounders, and started to lift them.

Hey! This was actually kind of fun!

I kept lifting them until my arms started getting tired. I said goodbye to Mason then and decided to go find my mom.

* * *

A/N: Oooh, Annie's in lo-o-ve!

**Annie: I am not! (throws paperback book at me) **

Me: Whatever you saaay...


	12. Harvey Dent's New Problems

**Chapter Eleven: Harvey Dent's New Problems**

* * *

Mom and I walked out of the gym, talking about our day so far when I saw a blond man.

A _very_ familiar blond man.

"Harvey Dent!" I squealed.

"Not so loud!" he hissed, stopping near Mom and I. He made a big show of looking around for any watchful eyes. "The mob is after me, you know." He winked at me, and I laughed.

"Harvey Dent, the man from the commercials," Mom observed. She held out her hand. "I see you and Annie have met. You have a lot of optimism and hope, and the people of Gotham, myself included, have faith in you."

"Mrs. Gaylewood, was it?" Mom nodded. "It's nice to see that an entire town has faith in little old me," Harvey laughed.

He grew serious. "But I promise that I will do my best to keep criminals behind bars and serve my city."

I just stared. "What are you, Abe Lincoln's long-lost great-great-great grandnephew?"

Harvey smiled. "Unfortunately, no. But I can be profound when I need to be."

That sounded like me. I was normally a little crazy, but if I was really mad or really passionate, I would have potential to be an orator. Yay me!

"Say, Harvey, I bet you're having a great time!" I said enthusiastically. "Falcone's in jail, Gotham has hope, and everybody loves you! The perfect life!"

Harvey shook his head. "Oh, believe me, kid, it is not as fun as you think. People want to tear me down all the time because they think I'm young, even though I'm nearly thirty." He stood up straighter. "Besides, Salvatore Maroni took over the mob, and he is no picnic."


	13. He Has a Job

**Chapter 12: He Has a Job**

* * *

"Oh my gosh! That sounds horrible!" I exclaimed.

"It is," Harvey said somberly. "Maroni has the cockiness of a new ruler, and that paired with the mob is not a good combination."

Suddenly, Michael Jackson's _Beat It _began playing loudly from Harvey's pocket. Blushing a little, he pulled out his phone, mouthed 'sorry' to us, and started talking.

"Hello? Rachel! How've you been?" He sounded happy all of a sudden. Oh, don't tell me. He and Rachel were still dating.

Poor Bruce.

"So I'll pick you up at seven for our date," Harvey was saying. "Yeah, we'll go to the place we always do. Love you." And he hung up, smiling at us. "She is a dream come true, folks."

"That's so romantic!" I cooed.

He cleared his throat suddenly. "Well, I have to go. The government isn't going to represent itself, you know." He said goodbye and left.

* * *

The minute I got home, I rushed to the computer and looked up 'DA'. I got D.A. from The Magic School Bus, the sound 'da', and other bizarre things before I saw district attorney.

Harvey was a district attorney! Amazing!

Then apparently, he represented _the entire freaking city of Gotham_.

That was awesome.

I wanted that job.

"Annie, what are you doing?" Mom asked. "You have homework, you know."

"I want to be a district attorney," I announced. "I can represent an entire city! And I can blab on and on in front of a mic and people will love me!" I threw my hands up in the air in celebration.

"It doesn't work that way, Annie," Mom smiled sadly. She said briskly, "Now do your homework!"

"Okay, okay," I said, holding up my hands and running to my room.

* * *

I had done all my homework except English and social studies, but those were easy. For English, I had to do a worksheet on the first three chapters of Thomas Wayne's life. For social studies, I had to answer questions in my textbook and watch a BrainPop video on our subject.

Right then, the phone rang downstairs. I heaved a huge sigh and ran to get it.

"Hello?" I asked, the phone against my ear.

"Hey, Little Orphan! How ya doin'?" Bruce Wayne's pleasant, insides-melting voice said.

I screamed into the phone, "It's you! You're here! I love you!"

Sorry, Mason, but I was still hopelessly in love with the Prince of Gotham!

"Uhhh..." The poor guy was clearly flabbergasted. "Anyway, Annie, how's life been to you?"

"Great!" I exclaimed. "I've been making friends! But...what you said when you came to see me as _him_...I can't do it. I've got school, and I'll be grounded till I'm 35 if I try."

"Annie, I've got a _job _in Wayne Enterprises to attend to, and I find time. I bet you can, too," said Bruce.

That was right. That was exactly right.

"Thank you," I whispered. "You rock." And I hung up.


	14. Not What I Thought You Would Say

A/N: Okay, I used to like Commissioner Loeb, but now, after seeing that he was the one who called Batman an asshole in Batman Begins, I don't like him. HE is the asshole.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Not What I Thought You Would Say**

* * *

I sighed.

Was Mason really my crush? Or Bruce?

Mason...or Bruce?

Then I slapped myself.

Bruce, duh! Bruce was perfect-handsome, smart, funny, nice, sensitive. What more could I want?

_Okay, mind. Do not think about Mason that way! Remember what happened the last time?_ I thought, even though we had moved on from that long ago.

There! I was set. Bruce was my crush, and he would always be.

* * *

I flew through my English homework and worked through social studies. Finally, I was done. I was...free.

What would I do?

I guessed I could read the tabloids and laugh at them. Mom had bought a couple copies, and if I remember correctly, she kept them under the cookie jar.

I hurried over to that place and retrieved the tabloids. They were dated _March 19th, 2006_. Yesterday.

I went back to my room and opened them, prepared for what completely nonsensical rumors awaited.

Or was I?

**Officer speaks on Catgirl**, a headline said. I sighed and looked at it.

_On March 18th, Commissioner Loeb sat with us to discuss Catgirl,_ the article, which also looked like an interview,started. _The adventurous young vigilante made headlines when she helped Batman defeat Rochelle last year. The kids in the city took a particular liking to her._

I smiled. Maybe tabloids weren't so stupid after all.

I kept reading.

_But the adults in the city aren't so fond of her, _it continued. **_Commissioner Loeb, you have heard of this girl, correct?_**

_Damn right, I have, and I don't think she has done one thing to help these people._

Astonished, I nearly dropped the paper.

What. An. Egghead.

No, that was insulting to eggheads, who were certainly smarter than this guy.

Trembling with rage, I kept reading the interview. It went as follows from there:

**_Well, Mr. Loeb, sir, I beg your pardon. But have you considered the children she's saved?_**

_Yes, I have, and I don't buy a word of it. She's probably some teen who has no life and decides to beat people up because she can't do anything else. Saving people does not excuse her conduct._

_**Don't you think that is a bit assuming, Commissioner?**_

_The hell it's 'assuming'. She kicked the ass of some thug and left him out tied up with a cheeky little note. Now how juvenile is that? _

_**Alas, you make good points, sir. Now, do you believe that she has helped your officers in any way?**_

_No._

_**Why do you think that is the case?**_

_Well, just look at her! She is doing something clearly illegal, and she doesn't even show her sassy little face at the GCPD. The goddamn Batman has to do all the work. Frankly, he's no better for not whooping her ass sooner._

* * *

I put down the paper with a _thump!_.

I had heard enough._  
_

Something in my nature I prided myself on was my sass. Normally. I was a sweet kid, but get me angry and you were in big trouble.

"Mr. Loeb," I hissed. "That was not what I thought you would say. But you'll soon learn never to mess with an angry Catgirl."


	15. A Certain Badass Returns

**Chapter 14: A Certain Badass Returns**

* * *

That did it. I didn't care if I ended up grounded till I was thirty.

Nobody insulted Catgirl like that. Nobody.

And Catgirl herself was going to prove it.

I found the plastic bag and pulled out my costume. Still just as good as before. A little smaller, but I was skinny enough to fit.

I posed in front of the mirror like a model, admiring the awesome realistic cat ears, the super cool claws, and everything else.

I left my hair down like always...but I had to leave.

If somebody saw me escape, they'd know right away EXACTLY who was behind the mask.

It was still light out, only 5:30. I had to move quickly.

I then had an idea. A stupendous idea!

* * *

Now if only it wasn't so difficult.

I basically decided to dump out a clothing organizer of mine, hang it out a window, and use it to climb down.

That should be in a 'Most Random Idea Ever' contest.

As I nearly fell out of my clothing organizer, I wondered what the heck would happen next.

At last, I saw a rake Dad had left near the window, and in an epically painful conclusion, I fell to the ground.

"Oww," I muttered in my disguised voice._ I should start using it quickly_, I thought, _so I don't forget it._

And there you have it.

Catgirl was back.

* * *

Far away from my house, I ran through the city, looking for crime. God dang it, I was thirteen and smart. Bad guys wouldn't stand a chance against me!

Wait.

What was happening over there?

* * *

I saw two random guys traveling on a zip line...toward the bank.

A robbery! I had to stop them!

I rushed over there, trying to remain unseen, hiding behind pillars and bushes and anything else I could find.

Of course, it was way up high.

After an agonizing climb, I was there.

Who were they? What was going on?

I looked down, grinning at the height. This was epic, folks!

But someone was coming down there. I looked at the hatch, saw it was already open, and crawled inside scoring a spot near the ceiling in which to crouch like a cat.

Then I heard gunshots and screaming. This was not good.

"All right, everybody, hands up, heads down!" some guy yelled. I climbed down to see.

They were all wearing clown masks.

Wait. Clown.

These guys could be working for the Joker! Well, he wasn't going to do any more harm.

"I said, hands up, heads down!" he yelled again as people screamed.

Suddenly, a figure grabbed me, and everything went black.


	16. Fear Me!

**Chapter Fifteen: Fear Me! **

* * *

Thirty minutes later...

I blinked my eyes open and let out a little groan of fatigue.

Apparently, I was in a parking garage.

Wait. _Parking garage_?

What the heck was going on here?

A black van drove up, and a couple of mob guys got out. I just knew they were of the mob. They didn't look right.

"This way we bring, dogs!" one guy with an accent announced dramatically. "My little preci..."

I heard some poor guy begging for mercy, and felt like scratching someone with my claws. I kept my gloves in one hand for later, though.

The poor guy was pushed face down on the floor, still whimpering.

"Look what your drugs did to my customers!" the accented guy said indignantly.

"I am aware. I told you my compound would take you places," a voice said, and a familiar man walked casually toward the accented guy.

* * *

"I never said they'd be places you wanted to go," Scarecrow said smoothly.

I almost gasped. It was Crane! He had escaped from wherever he'd been locked up!

The accented guy said something about his business and customers.

"You don't like what I have to offer, you can buy from someone else," Scarecrow said in a mildly offended tone.

Yes. Please, Crane, you jerk, go away.

I had been sitting still for far too long.

"Maybe that's because no sane person would want your stupid gas, Crane," I snapped, stepping forward.

Everybody looked at me. The accented guy burst into giggles.

Let him laugh. Nobody messed with a raging mad Catgirl.

"Crane is dead! It's Scarecrow, for crying out loud!" Crane snapped, and turned back to the still-laughing accented guy.

What he said next felt like a stab in the heart.

"Assuming Batman left anyone to buy from."

All of a sudden, I heard the loud barking of dogs.

"My dogs are hungry!" the accented guy said in victory.

I JUST realized that I looked like a cat, and dogs chase cats.

Uh-oh.

Then I saw something that made me whisper, "Yes!"

It was Batman's silhouette! He was here! He'd save me!

"Michi, there's only one of you!" the accented guy said in a cocky tone.

Huh? Was that something behind the car?

* * *

I felt like kicking someone.

That wasn't Batman! That was some moron in a Batman suit!

Then ANOTHER 'Batman' beat up some other guy.

Wait, what? What the heck?

_Another_ 'Batman' did the unthinkable.

He fired a gun.

No!

Everybody tried to dodge, and I remained hidden, hoping that that Batman wouldn't see me. He didn't know me. He might think I was a thief or something and stuff me with bullets.

I shivered at the mental image of that and tried not to cry. It was going to be okay.

The Batman with the gun kept shooting.

Another one did too.

"Let loose the dogs!" the accented guy screamed.

They did-and something incredible happened.

* * *

The Tumbler came roaring in, over the cars.

Batman was back. The real, true Batman.

People tried to shoot at him, but in vain.

After a tense moment, something made a noise and blew up.

How was I so calm? I was supposed to be screaming!

Oh, wait. It was Batman. He would save the day!

I saw one of the armed Batmen creep forward, when in a moment of epicness, the real Batman bent the tip of the gun and knocked the fake Bat guy out.

Everybody was running and screaming, while Batman beat somebody up.

I had to find him. No longer afraid, I started running to him.

He beat up a couple of other guys and let a fake Batman get dragged away by dogs.

Wuh-oh. The dogs were gonna murder me. I could see my tombstone now. _Here lies Catgirl, 1993-2006, tragically mauled to death by dogs_.

Oh, no. Not me.

The dogs leapt at Batman, and he yelled in pain.

Nobody hurt him on my watch!

Without thinking, I began to try and wrestle one of the dogs away.

"Sit! Stay! Heel!" I fired out all the dog commands I knew, before I felt a searing pain in my right hand.

I let go of the dog and saw that my hand had big teeth marks on it and was dripping with red blood.

No. Oh, no.

Oh, NO!

Batman managed to wrestle the dogs away and grabbed on to a van as it quickly drove away.

"No!" I yelled. "Please! Come back! I'm hurt! I'm losing blood!" I collapsed into a fury of sobs, not caring that the entire freaking mob was probably watching me.

* * *

"So I'mnot the only one who failed, huh?" a pleasant male voice said.


	17. An Old Friend

**Chapter 16: An Old Friend**

* * *

I whirled to see a guy clad in a red-brown suit. He had pointy fake ears, an orange mask that only showed his eyes and mouth, and long black gloves.

In short, he looked ridiculous, yet cool. And at least he didn't look like some sagging-pants idiot.

But anyway, I didn't even know this guy. Or did I...

"Who are you?" I whispered. "Do I...know you?"

He grinned a goofy grin that could only belong to one boy.

* * *

"_Mason_?" I was beyond surprised. "But why? Why did you do this? It's reckless and irresponsible, young man..."

"What are you, my teacher in Catgirl's body?" he complained.

I grinned. "Naw. But you should disguise your voice. And you look absurd!"

"I could say the same about you," he retorted. "We gotta get out of here. The mob is pretty powerful. If they learn anything-"

"Too late!" one guy shouted, and he aimed a gun at us.

"Run!" Mason hissed, and grabbing my hand, he took off.

Why, God, why did I suddenly get all tingly holding his hand?

We were running when we saw a man limping off.

_Batman_.

For some reason, I was suddenly angry with him. Tears started up in my eyes.

"Hey! Hey, you!" I yelled.

He turned.

"Great idea!" I shouted. "Just leave me alone to bleed out from a dog bite! Don't I mean _anything _to you? If it hadn't been for this guy"-I gestured to Mason-"I'd be dead!"**  
**

"Calm down," he growled. "Just watch."

"You know him? How?" I looked down to see a weary fake Batman lying near us.

"It's a long story," I whispered.

"One that you'll never know!" Batman bellowed. And he turned away from us, standing on the edge.

He was still, as if he was planning something. Then as if on cue, he calmly jumped off.

"What the?" I yelled. "Batman, wait! Come back! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"Think we should go down there?" Mason asked.

"No," I replied. "We'll die. I hope Batman's okay!"

* * *

Meanwhile, after crashing on top of a car...

**Batman's POV**

Batman pulled off Scarecrow's mask to face the insolent, condescending Jonathan Crane. Him again? As Ra's al Ghul would say, he would never learn.

He looked steadily at Crane and the fake Batman next to him, then said, "Don't let me find you out here again." And he turned to leave.

"We're trying to help you!" the fake Bat called.

"I don't need help!" Batman snapped. Okay, sure, there was Catgirl, but she was more for comic relief than actual help. Besides, she mostly did it on her own, so he was okay with her. Also, she didn't use guns. Guns were a no-no.

"Not my diagnosis," Crane called. Ugh. Only that arrogant doctor would believe his evil opinions actually mattered.

"What gives you the right? What's the difference between you and me?" the fake Batman said indignantly.

As the Tumbler closed around him, Batman shot back, "I'm not wearing hockey pads."

Inside the Tumbler, he smirked a little.

OWNED!


	18. Batman

**Chapter Seventeen: Batman's Ramblings**

Well, actually...

No. No, no.

Batman remembered Catgirl yelling at him, but her hand had been bleeding. She had tried to wrestle the dogs away...she must have got bitten.

Oh, goddamnit.

Batman wasn't Catgirl's best chum quite yet-that honor went to her friend in the ridiculous fox costume-but it had hurt him _just a little_ inside to see her crying and wailing as her hand dripped with red blood.

No. Batman didn't cry, except for his parents, and certainly not for that kid. He'd find her and give her some first-aid, and then she was on her own. He'd busted his ass while she'd stayed home, so she deserved to carry the city for a while.

Wait. No.

Batman had looked up her birthday once in a database when he was bored.

March 4th, 1993.

That meant...she was barely thirteen! Thirteen-year-old girls thought about boys and dreams and makeup. What would _she _know about the _mob_?

That did it. Whether her stubborn self liked it or not, he was going to help her.

* * *

Annie's POV

"Where did he go?" I whispered, running over to the edge and looking down. I saw something black driving away. There he was!

I almost laughed with relief. "He's okay!"

"We have to get home," Mason whispered pragmatically in an higher-than-usual voice with a hilarious Australian accent. "And if anyone asks"-he made a big show of looking around-"I'm the Fox Boy."

"How creative." I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "But we'll be grounded if our folks know."

"Then we'll have to sneak back in," Mason decided quietly in his new voice. "How do we get out of here?"

The mob was gone. And I didn't remember how I got in here.

Well, this was just _peachy_.

"Um...I don't know."

"You WHAT?" he yelled in his normal voice. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Don't you know what this means? We'll be stranded here forever!"

"Hey!" I said indignantly. "I've been in scrapes like this before. All we need is a plan, Fox Boy."

He put his new voice back on. "Okay. Got any ideas, Catgirl?"

"We could sneak out." I already felt my mind's gears whirring. "We'll have to stay in our rooms when we're home and make sure no one sees us. If they see, we're doomed."

"Good idea," he whispered, still with his new voice. "Meet me outside the garage."

He was about to leave when he stopped.

"What?" I asked, still with _my_ disguised voice.

He grinned. "Here." He handed me a Band-Aid. "For your bite."

Then he really turned to leave.

He gave me a Band-Aid. How nice.

But then why was I feeling all tingly and mushy? Darn you, desires!


	19. She's a Badass

**Chapter 18: She's a Badass**

* * *

"Just go," Mason was saying. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I smiled. "Okay."

I turned and began to walk away, when I just _knew_.

I turned back around and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

* * *

"See ya," I smiled, and skipped away.

I don't even fully know why I did that. It hadn't felt the same as when I'd done it to Bruce, but it was nice.

Maybe I was trying to tell him something. Maybe I was just weird, most likely.

Maybe...I did like him.

I guess I did. It wasn't full-blown let's-marry-and-have-kids love, but I knew it was a little more than friendship.

I felt accomplished, at having finally _done_ it, I guess.

* * *

I went back the route I'd come, recalling landmarks and staying unseen.

I managed to get to my house, quietly open the window, get inside using the rake and organizer, and change out of my costume into pajamas.

I sat down on my bed and thought about today.

I had come back. Catgirl was back, officially. No more inhibitions.


	20. I'm In Big Trouble

**Chapter Nineteen: I'm In Big Trouble**

* * *

I couldn't deny that I liked being Catgirl. It was just...epic.

I knew, though, that I was doing it for my grandparents. They had wanted a better Gotham, and I was going to give it to them, gosh darn it.

Then I saw a familiar black shape hurtling toward the window. I quickly opened it, and everybody's favorite bat crashed unceremoniously on the floor.

"Sorry," Batman muttered, getting up and closing the window. He turned to me. "Not just about my-_ahem_-interesting entry. About leaving you behind."

He sighed. "You want to be Catgirl again? Well, whether you like it or not, I'm helping you."

I grinned so widely that jack-o-lanterns would cry seeing it. "Are you kidding? That sounds amazing! You're awesome, and I'm definitely helping you, too. Wait till you meet Fox Boy!"

"That boy in that ridiculous fox costume?" Batman groaned. "Can't wait." And he was gone.

Quietly, I closed the window, then got into bed. Smiling, I fell asleep.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, I saw that someone had been in my room. Some of the books and clothes had been picked up off of my floor.

Uh-oh.

Mom and Dad most likely knew where I had gone.

UH-OH indeed.

I cautiously got dressed and packed up my backpack.

I was most likely in BIG trouble. I trudged to the family room, knowing what was coming.

Boy, was I _right_.

* * *

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?" Dad snapped at me.

Yes. Yes, Dad, I did. Really, I was sorry. But I didn't regret it.

"I was a missing person, wasn't I?" I said carefully.

"You were more than that!" Mom looked angry and high-strung. "We looked all over for you! We almost called the police when we saw you sleeping, and that _costume_ lying on the floor!"

Well. They knew.

I was doomed.

"But Mom, I saved..."

"Who?" Dad challenged me.

I...I hadn't saved _anybody_. Last night had been for naught.

Meanwhile, mean old Batman who had left me had actually gotten stuff done.

Like looking super-cool. I hadn't even achieved _that_.

What Dad said next made me gasp.

"You're grounded for a week," he declared.

Seeing the look on my face, Mom cut in. "Tom, if she really wants to do this, we could let her. Batman did it after all."

"But he's a grown man! Annie's a kid!" Dad fretted.

"All we have to do is know where she is at all times," Mom replied. "She clearly isn't going to give up on it."

I wanted to hug her, but simply smiled and left for the bathroom.


	21. The Idea

Chapter 20: The Idea

* * *

My mind whirled as I brushed my teeth.

Would they let me do it? _Could_ they let me do it?

Dad drove me to school, but I was too preoccupied with that thought to pay much attention. Poor Mr. Agarwal actually had to rap on my desk with a ruler to 'wake me up'.

Right in the middle of English, I had an idea. Cathy asked me what the matter was, but I smiled and said it was nothing.

In social studies, the last class of the day, the idea was finalized.

* * *

After dismissal, I went to my usual spot and saw Mason. "Hi," he said casually.

"Hi," I returned. Sensing the tense atmosphere, I sat down in the grass and gave him a grin. "I have an idea on how to keep doing..._it_. A ridiculously stupendous idea!"

He looked at me for a while, then demanded, "Well, out with it, kid. I don't have all day, you know!"

I grinned again and whispered it in his ear. When I was done, he was wearing his signature smile. "That's great! A little ridiculous, but good."

When Dad came to pick me up, I hesitated, then just came out with it.

"Can you take me to a certain house?" I asked as I climbed into the car.

Dad stared at me, surprised. "Annie, you're grounded. Why on earth would I take you to a random house?"

I didn't normally act innocent to get what I wanted, but I _really _needed to implement my idea.

I gave my best puppy dog eyes and made my best sniffling sounds until poor Dad gave in. He drove me there after I told him the address, _and_ after getting directions

Okay. I was there. There was only one person who could help me.

* * *

"So you want me to build a tracking device to pin to your suit so your parents will know where you are?" Bruce Wayne asked coolly, pacing around the forbidden room. This place brought back so many memories...

"Yes," I pleaded. "It's the only way they'll let me keep doing it, and they don't deserve to be kept in the dark."

"Are you sure?" he said suspiciously. "It's not legal, you know."

"You and Barbara do it," I argued. "If I can keep my identity under wraps, I can do it. And I'll...I'll save more people than I hit."

He sighed. "Come back in two days. I should have it built by then."

I grabbed up my backpack and turned to leave, but not before saying, "Thank you."


	22. Maybe

**Chapter 21: Maybe...**

* * *

I ran back to Dad's car, regretting that the visit was so short. It had been wonderful to see Bruce again after so long!

I climbed in, and Dad drove me home.

While he was doing so, I told him about the idea.

"You want to do that? Well, that's a great idea, but...why Bruce Wayne?"

Oh, whoops. The tabloids said that Bruce was a stupid drunk playboy, and most likely, Dad had that image in his mind.

"He has a lot of money," I said quickly. "He might not be the sharpest guy ever, but he can finance it."

Dad nodded, and soon I was home.

I got out of the car and ran into the house.

"Where were you?" Mom asked, looking worried.

"I asked a certain rich guy if he could help me with an idea I have about Catgirl," I replied. "It's about you and Dad, so that you'll know where I am. He says I should go back in two days."

"Go back in two days, and do your homework now, young lady!" Mom looked happier now, though, perhaps because she wouldn't have to worry about where I was at night.

"Oh, all right." And I was off to work on tonight's homework.


	23. Homework and a Clown

A/N: I liked writing this chapter. I don't LIKE everybody's favorite clown, but I was excited to bring him back after all this time.

_Joker: Let's put a smile on that face, sweetie..._

Me: Oh, be quiet. *grins defiantly* I already got one, Mr. J!

_Brilliant Brunette Beauty_- Aw, thanks! That was the plan-Annie's parents just let her mess around a lot at first, until they realized what she was doing.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Homework and a Clown**

* * *

God dang it, life was so adventurous. I loved it!

I knew I had to work on my homework, but I was bored and ready for some TV.

Oh, fine. I'd do my science work.

So I did my science worksheet as usual. Ho-hum.

FINALLY, I was done, and decided to watch TV. I went to our television, turned it on, and began looking for my favorite show when I saw the news.

"Breaking news!" Vicki Vale was announcing. "On March 19th, 2006, a gang of men in clown masks robbed the city bank. Several people were killed, unfortunately. One witness reports that a manager was shot and confronted by another clown. After a heated discussion on honor and respect, the clown removed his mask and revealed his true self. It was the Joker."

I nearly screamed. The Joker. He _was _real!

And he had been at that bank.

_And I hadn't seen him._

There was a mug shot of him on the TV. He looked strange.

He had badly dyed green hair that was in serious need of a good washing and white paint all over his face. His lips were bright red, almost as if he had randomly decided to paint his lips scarlet one day.

* * *

Maybe he had.

Who was he? _What _was he?

More importantly, would Batman and I be able to stop him?

Suddenly, I heard the phone ring. I ran to get it.

"Hello?" Bruce Wayne asked.

"Hi!" I greeted him. "What's up?"

"Remember the device?" he said. "Never mind two days, I got it built! It even has a little video camera so that your parents can see you."

"Wow! That's incredible!" I exclaimed. "Should I come pick it up?"

"Sure, whenever you want," he said casually, and hung up.

I put down the phone and went to do my homework. This was incredible! Typical genius detective Bruce!

_Watch out, Joker. Here comes Catgirl!_

* * *

I flew through English and social studies, and Dad helped me with math. He was actually VERY good at it.

After an agonizing two and a half hours, my homework was done.

"Hey, Dad," I said. "Bruce says he already built the device."

"_Device_?" Uh-oh. I hadn't told Dad my idea.

I quickly told it to him while he nodded and looked at me with an understanding gaze.

Then he said firmly, "Hop in the car, kiddo. We're off!"


	24. Tracking Device

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Tracking Device**

Dad and I drove to Bruce Wayne's house, and I got out.

"Bye, Dad," I panted, and rushed to the big door.

I knocked loudly. The door opened, and I was faced with a pleasantly familiar face.

"Alfred!" I squealed, and we shook hands. The old man was dressed in a classy tuxedo as always, and was carrying a tray of...crumpets?...and tea.

"Good morning, long time no see," Alfred smiled. He was so cool.

"Are you here to see Bruce?" Alfred asked. I nodded.

Alfred turned and called, "Master Wayne! Annie is here!"

"Coming, Alfred," Bruce grumbled from somewhere. At last, he sauntered towards me, and dropped a small device in my hand. It had a separate USB cord with a little DVD-player-like box.

"You can clip this to your suit," Bruce whispered. "Your parents can hook the other thing up to a computer, and they'll be able to see where you are and what you're doing."

I nodded. "Thanks!"

Dad and I drove home, and we got started right away.

* * *

It was getting dark. I was already in my costume, and Dad hooked up the USB thing. I clipped the small device to the back of my suit, safely hidden under my hair.

On the computer, I laughed to see myself on the screen. I grinned and waved to it. It waved back, almost like a mirror reflection.

"Goodbye, Annie," Mom said wistfully.

I nodded, and with another epically painful escape, I was gone.

* * *

I was running through the city, looking for crime and whatnot, when I heard footsteps.

"Huh?" I turned. Nothing.

I turned back to hear the footsteps again, only louder.

Suddenly, my arms were locked behind my back, and a muscular arm locked around my throat.

Can't breathe...can't make it...I'm gonna die!

That's when a gleeful voice said, "Aw, let her go, Happy."

Happy? But the man named Happy let me go, and I crumpled in a heap on the ground.

"Who are you people?" I croaked, gasping for breath. "What do you want with me?"

* * *

"Oh, my dear Catgirl, that changes all the time, you see!" the gleeful voice said.

I looked up and gasped.

There he was. It was him.

_The Joker_.


	25. HE'S HERE!

**Chapter 24: HE'S HERE! **

* * *

"You," I breathed out. I shakily stood up.

"You're the Joker," I said dumbly. Well, _duh_.

"Oh, that's just one of _many _names I have," the Joker replied, licking his lips. "I'm pretty exotic, so to, uh, speak. Say, I have TV, and I saw your cute little mug on the screen once. You're Batman's little elf, aren'tcha?"

I nodded lamely. Where was my sass when I needed it?

"What do you want?" I repeated. "You didn't answer that question." Ah! There it was!

The Joker suddenly burst into crazed laughter. "Oh! What I _want_! Hysterical!" he gasped. "See, kid, what I _want_ changes as fast as, uh, _night and day_."

I didn't know what to say. My sass hadn't disturbed him in the least.

"Fine," I said at last, as calmly as I could. "What did you want when you captured me?"

"Oh, so many questions, so little time," the Joker said casually. "Well, we wanted some answers, you beautiful little fille."

Fille? "I am not a fillet!" I snapped.

"It's French," one of the Joker's thugs muttered.

French...I only remembered greetings and how to count up to ten.

DANG IT!

"Anyway," the Joker was saying. "We don't want answers anymore. Just like that!" He made a shooing motion with his hand.

"Um..." Man, this guy was confusing. "_Now _what do you want?"

"Oh, we just want to shake things up a bit," the Joker said, grinning evilly. "It's so _boring _around here. No explosions, no knives, no _fun_. Everybody just goes to work and goes home and does it all again. Why not introduce a little anarchy?"

Was he serious? There were so many opportunities for fun and happiness in Gotham! Was his mind honestly SO NARROW that all he saw was 'going to work and sleeping'? What an idiot!

"I see. I'll be leaving, then," I said, and without another word, I walked away.

He didn't stop me.


	26. What Are You, Joker?

**Chapter Twenty-Five: What Are You, Joker?**

* * *

I didn't run this time. I just walked, my mind whirling all around the inside of my skull.

What was that guy? The Joker, he called himself. Hmmph! Hadn't even told any jokes. Joker, my foot!

But what did he mean by creating anarchy? Didn't he know how many opportunities there were to have adventures here? Life was not like he said.

Life...life was only limited by one's own choices.

Yeah! That was right!

_Sure, your past is important, but it's up to you what life you want to live_, I thought.

Life wasn't inherently boring or stupid or evil. Boring, stupid, evil people made it that way. I knew so. In my heart.

And with determination in my soul, I stormed back to where I'd been captured.

* * *

The Joker was still loitering around, talking enthusiastically to his men.

What a moron. Now he'd get the scolding of a lifetime.

"Hey, you," I snapped. He didn't hear.

Ohh, no more Miss Nice Catgirl. I stomped my foot.

"_HEY, YOU_!" I screamed. "Joker, was it? I have something to say to you, you failure of a clown!"

The Joker turned. "Oh, you again. Got a little fight in you. I like that. Say..." He walked over, and suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders, roughly turning me to face him. "You wanna know how I got these scars?"

"No," I tried to retort, but my voice was shaking. He had a knife to my mouth, by the way.

I can safely say that I was scared to death.

The Joker got a faraway look in his eyes. "So I was in school once. Gotham Junior High. Very boring place." I wanted to punch him, but he held my arms tightly. "Anyway," he continued, "so I was just on my way to, uh, Math, when this girl comes up. Beautiful girl. Her name was, uh, Linda. Linnn-daaa. Looked like a regular Barbie."

I took a deep breath, wondering how this Linda gave him those scars.

"So," the Joker said, "this Linda chick, she's real good at Math. A whiz! And she says she'll help me, and I say sure, because I need to pass that _boring_ test for those _white-collar _executives who hold my life in their hands. And then after a couple days, she starts getting real jumpy. Flirting and asking me out, and of course, she's pretty and has a great bod, so I say yes, like any _normal_ guy would. One day, I'my gonna pick her up for junior prom, but she doesn't come. I go into the house, and there she is with a gun to her head. Turns out that her best friend likes her, and he doesn't like me being with her. Not. One. Bit. And so then! He comes at me with the knife, and then I'm bleeding."

"And then?" I was breathless, swept up into the story.

He started laughing suddenly. "Then," he cackled, "I look in the mirror, and_ I can't stand the sight of me_. I've got a scar on one cheek, and to even it out, I carve another one!" His laughter grew louder. "Now I know how things work. Now I'm always-"

**POW**!

He stumbled back, reeling from my punch to his face.

"Nice story, but I still have something to say," I snarled. "And it's this."

I breathed deeply, then started to speak.

* * *

"What are you thinking? Do you honestly think you're gonna change things?"

The Joker watched me calmly.

Infuriated, I continued. "Honestly, look at yourself. 'Oh! I'm gonna dress up as a psychotic clown and kill people to change things'! Oh, wait! You ARE a psychotic clown! Hah!"

He still looked at me, but not as calmly.

"Are you serious?" I yelled. "You honestly want to kill innocents and ruin lives because YOU'RE bored? You want my opinion? Get a life! And if you honestly think that any lifestyle other than yours involves simply going to work and sleeping, you SERIOUSLY need to get your mind out of the gutter. There are so many opportunities to have adventures! Make new friends! Go for a bike ride! Read books! Make your own comic! Not everything has to be doom and gloom! Not everything is just either murder and blood or boringness. It's not! Life is only what you make it. The only limitations we have are ourselves. It's only our inner selves that are telling us that we can't do this. But we can! Don't you see? Quit using such dichotomies and read a book! I suggest a joke book for starters. If you're gonna be a clown, do it right!"

I let out a huge breath as I stopped my speech.

Whew. That was something.

I wasn't the only one who thought so. I heard clapping behind me, and a voice I never thought I would hear again.

"How do you always face the aggressor when everybody else runs scared?"

* * *

A/N: Updated AT LAST! My extra-long absence is positively inexcusable!

Anyway, how did you like my scar story? And what about Catgirl's speech?


	27. She's Back, Folks!

Chapter 26: She's Back, Folks!

* * *

I nearly screamed with joy and delight as good old Barbara Gordon stepped forward and gave me a big hug.

"I-it's been so long," I stammered.

She laughed. "I know. Now flatter me and tell me how awesome I am."

I squealed, "Oh my gosh, you're wonderful! It's so awesome to see you again!" And then we really hugged, not caring that the Joker was right behind us.

"Girls, your reunion is very cute, but I, uh, kinda have stuff to do," the Joker said in a mildly offended tone.

I was just about to tell him to shut up when Barb pulled away, walked a little toward him, and snapped, _"Tais-toi, imbécile. Personne ne se soucie de vos opinions."_

Huh? I was pretty sure that was French, but whaaat?

"Oh, how cute!" the Joker cooed creepily. Folks, seeing a psychopath coo is creepier than a rabid dog. I promise you.

"Little Batgirl here knows another language! Dutch, was it?" the clown continued.

"French," Barbara muttered, and did a face palm.

The Joker said eagerly, "Anyway, want to know how-"

"No," Batgirl interrupted. "Heard the story already."

"Sure you heard the same one?" And he was gone.

Barbara grinned at me. "I'm back, Catgirl. But time to go home. I'll see you later."

She then turned and ran off, leaving an ecstatic yet angry me alone.

* * *

A/N: Okay, people, I'm going to translate the French for you because you're all awesome and because I'm a nice person :)

Anyway! The French is 'Shut up, fool. Nobody cares about your opinions'. So true, Barbara!


	28. I Want To Tell You Off

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: I Want To Tell You Off**

* * *

I saved some kids and whatnot, the usual business, before getting home.

"How was your outing, Annie?" Mom asked as I emerged in my normal clothing.

"Pretty good," I replied. "But I met-"

"The Joker," Mom finished. "I know. He seemed strange when your father and I saw him. Almost as if he just didn't care."

"Yeah," I whispered. "I know. People usually either fight me or stare at me if I get sassy, but this guy just acted like I didn't exist." And before I knew it, I was crying in Mom's lap, just like when I was five in 1998.

"What am I gonna do, Mom?" I sobbed. "I hate him! I hope he-" I choked on the word 'dies', and hiccuped a little.

"Do you want some orange juice?" Mom said gently. I looked up and nodded vigorously.

Soon, I was at the table with a glass of OJ in front of me, and I was narrating tonight's happenings to both my parents.

"And then Batgirl came," I chattered on. "And she told off the Joker in French! But the Joker knows it, too. He said it was Dutch. He's an idiot."

"So that girl was Batgirl?" Dad said, astonished. "Amazing!"

I nodded.

* * *

The next day, I got ready for school as usual.

Dad drove me there, and I hurried off to P.E.

"Good morning, privates!" Mr. Smithes blared.

"Good morning, sir!" we yelled back in unison, saluting him.

"Today!" he bellowed. "Today we're gonna play basketball."

I groaned. I hated basketball! I was always too short to reach the hoop!

"Okay, you're getting a number! Remember it. One, two, three, four..."

I stood silently until Mr. Smithes got to me. "Private Gaylewood! Three!"

"Yes, sir," I whispered.

"Ones, red. Twos, blue. Threes, green. Fours, yellow. Split up into your teams. Go!" Mr. Smithes barked.

A guy dragged out a bag of jerseys, and I rushed forward to grab a green one.

I actually looked pretty good in green, if I do say so myself.

I saw a bunch of green-jersey girls and ran to join them.

"Hi," I panted.

Gloria was on the team (yay), but not Charlotte. Phooey.

Ah, well. Gloria seemed cool.

"Hey," Gloria smiled. "You're Annie, right? This kid called Marissa told me how you once beat up a bully. I bet we can win with you around!"

I almost laughed and cried at the same time. It still hurt thinking about Marissa. I felt as if I had liked her, even though she had not been my best friend.

But Gloria liked me! She thought I could do it!

"Sure can!" I exclaimed. "Let's kick their sorry butts!"

So we did. Well, everybody else did. I just stood there yelling, "I'm open!", but nobody passed to me, except ONE time, and I didn't even get it into the hoop.

See? I told you I was no good at basketball.

Well, at least it was Friday.

* * *

After P.E., I went to math. We did our usual routine with Pre-Algebra, and then I was off to science.

Every Friday, Mr. Agarwal let us sit wherever we wanted. Without hesitation, I plopped down next to Parveen, who was singing a song that didn't sound English.

"Hi!" I exclaimed. She jumped a little and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, I was just singing a Hindi song," she apologized. Seeing my confused look, she explained, "In India, instead of artists with albums, there are songs in movies. This song is from the movie_ Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. _I'm actually mixed. Mom's from Tamil Nadu, and Dad's a pure Uttarakhand guy, so I know Tamil and Hindi. The song I'm singing has the same name as the movie."

I stared at her, absolutely flummoxed. Tamil? Hindi? Uttarakhand? Was I missing something?

She looked down and blushed. "Sorry, sometimes I get so caught up in all things Indian that I forget how many people have no idea what I'm saying."

I laughed. "Aw, I do that too! Sometimes I just go on and on and on..."

We giggled until Mr. Agarwal called for silence and started taking roll.


	29. I Told You Off

**Chapter 28: I Told You Off**

* * *

Science went on as usual. Parveen and I presented our project, which was pretty good, if I do say so myself.

Then the bell rang, and I was off to English.

I sat down in my desk and got out Thomas Wayne's biography. I wanted to read ahead so badly! But that would spoil things. So far, we were reading about his childhood in the affluent side of Gotham. I had heard about his achievements. He sounded like a good man.

"Ugh, I really hate this," a girl groaned. I looked over at her. She had a pierced nose and greasy, spiky hair.

"I know!" the girl next to her exclaimed, who had long pink hair.

Pink hair. How interesting.

"I mean, it's so fucking clueless," the first girl whined. "We could read books about anyone or anything, and we choose some rich surgeon who got shot because he walked into a dark alley. Wow, let's read about this asshole who lacked enough street smarts to stay alive. I don't care how many people he helped. He has no idea what poop people go through."

Did she just say that?

She did NOT just say that.

"Hey," I said, trying to get to her.

She looked at me, bored. "What?"

Luckily, our teacher wasn't here yet. Time for Annie to go into sass mode.

"Don't say that."

"Why not? Most rich people are assholes anyway."

"They are _not_," I snarled, surprising myself. By how awesome my sass was.

"What's that supposed to mean?" And she was chewing gum.

Oh, I had _had_ it now. Thomas Wayne was a good man, and I wondered just what this defiant, mean girl had done. For **anybody**.

"What's that supposed to mean? What's that supposed to MEAN?"

I stood up, and in my rage, I knocked my chair over.

* * *

"You know what it means? That YOU are being unnecessarily judgmental!" I yelled.

"Whoa, no need to go all bitch mode," the girl said, holding up her hands in surrender.

"I don't know what that means, and I don't care to," I growled. "You know what I care about? The fact that you're trashing a good man who probably did more to help Gotham than this entire class combined because he's rich! And that OBVIOUSLY means he's going to be mean, right? _Right_?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself a little. "You have got to be kidding me, woman. It's because of ignorant people like you that we're reading this book. For your information, not every rich person is a jerk, and not every poor person is a perfect angel. I should know-I lived with Thomas Wayne's son, and he is one of the most hilarious guys you'll ever meet. As for all the impoverished people I see daily who just sit around whining and complaining? Not so much. Quit assuming like that and actually get to know him! The poor man is dead! If you're honestly so heartless that you're going to call a good man who was taken too soon an 'a-word', may God be with you." I sat down, steaming mad.

Just as I sat down, our teacher came in.


	30. Boy Problems

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Boy Problems**

* * *

My English teacher was Mrs. Smithes. Yes, she was married to my drill sergeant P.E. teacher, and was just as bizarrely awesome.

"All right, everybody, settle down! We have a lot to do today," she commanded in her deep voice. "Thomas Wayne's biography won't read itself, you know."

"Uh-huh," we all chorused.

"Also, when we're finished with his childhood, there's a project for you all, and it _will_ be invigorating!" I told you she was awesome.

So we read about Thomas Wayne's boyhood days, and picked certain people for the 'cast'. Predictably, I was stuck as his mom.

Leland got Thomas. Remember Leland? Cathy's boyfriend? That's the guy.

It was weird acting as Leland's mom. It would have been so cool to be Mason's mom...

_Hush!_ I chided myself. _You know what happened to his mom! And you spend enough time together as it is!_

I sighed inwardly and kept reading.

* * *

"Good job with the reading today," Cathy praised me as we packed up and waited for the bell.

I felt myself blush. "Aw, it was nothing. Just utilizing my acting skills."

"Well, they're good!" Cathy smiled. "You've got talent. What do you have next?"

"Drama," I replied. "I'm not that great, but you know what? I like doing it, and with enough hard work, I'll touch the stars!"

Back then, I felt profound. Looking back, I facepalmed for being so damn corny.

Cathy laughed. "Wow, you have a way with words! Why don't you join the debate team next year?"

"Next year? Oh, in 8th grade! Yeah, sure!" Why was I suddenly uneasy?

Thank God, the bell rang, and our break started. We had a break before the next class.

* * *

Outside, I sat alone near some plants, pondering my sudden anxiety.

Next year...next year was my last year here, and then I would be off to high school. I didn't want to go yet. I liked this place.

Ah, well, Mason would be here, right?

Wait! No, he wouldn't be here! He was an eighth-grader!

_That_ was it. I only had a year left with that boy before he left for high school. No more carpool days, no more talking about life, no more hilarious jokes between us. He'd be gone, and he might even meet some girl who had everything I didn't...

I felt tears gather in my eyes, and biting my lip, I picked up my stuff and strode aggressively toward the main building to cry in private.

I was almost to the building when a familiar voice said cheerfully, "Oh, Annie!"

_Him._ No, no!

"Shut up," I muttered, and ran away from him. He wouldn't see me cry. He couldn't!

"Annie! What's wrong? You're upset," Mason said in a concerned tone.

I whirled to face him. "It's nothing. It's stupid, really. You'll probably laugh hysterically with Diana when you hear it." _Don't break down, Annie. Don't break down!_

"Diana? She rejected me days ago!" Mason exclaimed.

I gasped. How horrible! Here I was, crying over nothing, when Mason had real problems! I needed a good spanking. "Did she?"

"In front of the whole class," Mason replied grimly. "I asked her to the upcoming Spring Dance, and she said no and that I was probably gay."

"What a jerk! She's gonna pay!" I exclaimed, and then it happened. I cried.

He grabbed my shoulders, turned me around, and steered me God-knows-where. Then he said, "What happened?"

"I wish you didn't have to go to high school!" I blurted out, still sobbing. "I've only got one more year with you before you leave, and you might meet some high school girl who's tall and pretty and smart and everything I'm not, and-and-"

"You'll miss me terribly?" he guessed.

"So terribly that it would put terrible tornadoes to shame," I sniffled, and he handed me a tissue. I blew my nose loudly, then muttered, "I'm sorry."

I JUST realized that we were behind a set of stairs. Dear Lord.

"To be fair, I'm gonna miss you, too," Mason said sheepishly. He sighed. "_And_..."

All of a sudden, he knelt down and took my hand. THE FEELS!

But he couldn't marry me. We were too young, and what if something went wrong?

"Annalia Mabel Gaylewood, will you go to the Spring Dance with me?" he asked grandly. That was Mason, hilariously over-the-top.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

"S-sure!" I stammered in nervous delight. "But why _me_? I'm not pretty!"

"Sure you are," Mason smiled. "I'm not that pretty, in consolation."

That was true. I remembered my first impression of him-HOT! He was still pretty, but not as (physically) attractive as, say, Darren and Scott, the famous jocks in school.

But Darren and Scott were jerks who dated tons of girls at a time. They could go ride a pig!

"Of course you're pretty," he continued. "You just don't look like all the other girls. They're all vamps. You're the girl next door."

"Oh, be quiet, you flatterer," I scolded in mock anger. "I'm anything but a meek little girl next door!"

Mason laughed. "That's true. So talk to your parents about the dance, all right? See you." And he was gone.

Folks, Mason liked me. He liked me enough to ask me to a dance. My first EVER dance.

It didn't get better than this.


	31. Melanie

**Chapter 30: Melanie**

* * *

The bell rang, with me still dazed and happy. Joyous tears streamed from my eyes, and laughing and crying, I ran off to drama.

"Hey, Annie. What's the matter?" Mr. Morris (my drama teacher) asked, concerned, as I burst into the theater.

Sheepishly, I wiped my face. "I dunno, sir. I'm just so happy! Mason asked me to a dance!"

Mr. Morris clapped his hands in euphoria and did a little jig of victory. "The Spring Dance? That should be fun! Good for him!"

"You should have been cast as Scarlett," Mason's voice came from behind me. Grinning, I whirled to see him strolling in, holding his backpack in one hand. In our drama class, there were seventh _and_ eighth graders. "You look like Vivien Leigh."

I blushed and sputtered, "Don't flatter me, Mason! Vivien Leigh is beautiful!"

Then my heart leaped around in my chest as I realized that Mason, in his own way, was calling me beautiful. I nearly burst into joyful hysterics.

"I don't know, you kind of look like a combo of her and Reese Witherspoon, who is also beautiful," Mason said. DEAR LORD, QUIT WITH THE FLATTERY! Was he _trying_ to melt me into a puddle?

Gathering my confidence, I said boldly, "You're cute too. I'm glad that you asked me to the dance." I gave him a little smile, sort of bashfully.

"Phew! I'm glad too. I thought I was never going to get a date," he said.

Wait, what? Did he mean... "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, nobody except you suited me."

I sighed in relief. Phew!

This was the scene when Scarlett had fallen down the stairs and Rhett was waiting near her room, and I had to comfort him. YAY!

Charlotte had been cast to play Scarlett, most likely because of her name. I mean, those names sound so alike, IT'S UNCANNY.

The curtain was drawn, we got our scripts, and we were off!

* * *

I knocked on a pretend door twice, and Mason (yes, he was playing Rhett) came to open it. I stood in front of him and said, "Dr. Meade's left."

Granted, I wanted to be Scarlett, because she sounded awesome. But Melanie was good enough, I guess. Besides, there are no small parts. Only small actors.

"Scarlett's dead," Mason retorted with a mixture of disbelief and finality. I actually thought he had feelings for Charlotte, what with their kiss scenes and all.

"Oh, no, she's much better. Really, she is," I replied in a hopeful voice. I reached out to touch him, but he turned and walked near the window, and sullenly sat down in a chair. I went to close the window.

I walked to poor Mason, put my arms around him, and said in my most comforting voice, "There, there, Captain Butler. You're beside yourself. She'll very soon be well again. I promise you." Who cared about Scarlett? I wanted him to be worried about ME.

_No, Annie. You're Melanie, not Annie. As of now, you and Mason have no romantic involvement_, I chided myself, and kept on going.

"No, you don't understand. She never wanted this baby," Mason said remorsefully, his head buried in his hands.

"Not want a baby? Why, every woman wants a baby!" I exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and reassurance. It was not true, although I would like a baby when I grew up.

"Yes, you want children, but she doesn't. Not my children," he groaned. "She told me she didn't want any more children, and I wanted to hurt her because she'd hurt me. I wanted to and I did."

"Hush, you mustn't tell me these things. It's not fit," I said quickly. In case you didn't know, I was reciting from the script the entire time. I was a good reader and could memorize, but I never quite got this scene. I don't know why.

Mason sighed. "I didn't know about this baby until the other day when she fell. If I'd only known, I'd have come straight home whether she wanted me home or not."

"Well, of course you would," I said gently. I wanted to hug him-he was such a great actor that I almost thought he was Rhett himself!

"And then when she told me, there on the steps, what did I do?" He sat up and took his head out of his hands, staring straight ahead. "What did I say? I laughed and I said-"

"But you didn't mean it. I know you didn't mean it," I interrupted, trying to make him feel better.

Mason let out a little sigh. "Oh, but I did mean it. I was crazy with jealousy." He stood up and walked to the window. "She's never cared for me. I thought I could make her care, but I couldn't."

I walked near him, turned him towards me, and said, "You're so wrong. Scarlett loves you a great deal, much more than she knows."

"If that were only true I could wait forever." He looked away from me, as if she had come back. "If she'd only forgive me, forget this ever happened."

"She will. You must be patient." Man! Melanie was an optimist, just like me!

"Oh, no, it's not possible. You don't understand, if only you knew who she really loves..."

He turned and walked away from me. "You wouldn't believe it."

* * *

"CUT! Great job, Annie. Fabulous work as always, Mason," Mr. Morris declared. I smiled and Mason tipped a nonexistent hat to him.

"Thanks!" I called as we went to sit in the audience with the others.


	32. Annie and Diana

**Chapter Thirty-One: Annie and Diana**

* * *

"Sorry about Diana," I whispered to Mason.

He grinned. "Don't worry about it. It's an eighth-grade thing; people say things like that if they're pissed or trying to joke around. I bet she's sorry."

I wasn't convinced. "That's stupid. Nobody deserves to get knocked around by someone they like, even if he or she is joking."

"Says Little Miss 'I Won't Go Out On a Date'," he smirked. Was my previous aversion to men that obvious?

I groaned. "I'm being serious, you...you person!"

"I know. Good of you to stick up for me. Oh, and Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"You like me_ that way_, don't you?"

Dude! He finally realized it! I sighed and confessed, "Yes, I do. That's why I was so glad when you asked _me_, little old _me_, to the dance."

"Don't mention it," he said, but as I looked closer, I saw that his eyebrow was twitching in that way it did when he was really frustrated about something. Poor guy.

"Mason, do you know how to kiss?" I blurted out. I think I had kissed Bruce a couple times, but never on the lips.

He looked at me, puzzled. "Sure. Why? Oh, wait, wait."

* * *

Then he hissed, "Not yet, Annie! We haven't even gone to the dance yet! How about we do this?"

And tentatively, he hugged me.

Fair enough. Besides, I wasn't so sure I wanted to kiss after all.

I hugged him back briefly before he let go, and he had to go do the next scene with Charlotte.

Then it hit me like a brick, putting out the flame of happiness inside me like a bucket of water.

"Wait!" I called.

He turned and came toward me. "What?"

"I can't go to the dance," I said miserably. "I'm grounded."

"What?! Is it because of...that?" He face palmed. "Okay, for how long?"

"A week," I whined.

His face relaxed. "Oh, the dance is in two weeks! Don't worry, you'll be fine!" And with that, he was off to do the next scene with Charlotte.

DANG HER!

* * *

After drama, it was time for social studies. We were learning about the Aztecs, Mayans, and Incas.

I sat behind a girl with a very blonde head of straight, glossy hair. It was pulled up in a ponytail.

We went through class as usual, until our 'break' period in class, when the girl dropped her pen. I moved to pick it up and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said. "Hey, you know a guy called Mason Orley? If he's talked about Diana, that's me."

"Uh-huh," I replied. "Did you really tell him he was gay in front of the whole class?"

"I'm not in his class," she explained. "It was break and my class was inside, and I saw him as I walked outside, and he started talking to me, and then he asked me to the dance. And he just reeked gayness. You know the uber-feminine type who's always singing and reading plays?"

Okay, first off, Mason didn't read plays ALL the time. Mostly, he played video games or practiced archery, his hidden talent. Also, he had a super-manly singing voice.

Also, he liked girls. A lot. If he was gay, he wouldn't have liked Diana in the first place. Dear Lord.

"And?" I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

"Well, I was in a pissy mood that day, and I don't like him, so I said no and asked if he was gay," Diana replied.

"I see," I whispered, and turned away, my mind's gears whirring as I planned how to get back at her.

Looking back, I was kind of an idiot, but really, wouldn't you have done the same? Unlike a lot of people I've met, if someone insults someone I'm in love with...yeah, I'm that psycho girlfriend type. Mason's exes, BEWARE!

* * *

After school, I was walking to the front when I saw Diana.

Time to go into sass mode.

I stalked up to her and said, "Excuse me."

"Oh, it's you. May I help you with something?" she asked.

Looking back, I probably shouldn't have been so mean. But as a teen, seriously. Beware of the wrath of lovesick thirteen-year-old girls.

Let's just say that if you don't, you'll either wear dentures the rest of your life or have to be a hermit for years because of the newfound social annihilation said teen girl will cause you.

Anyway, there was so much I wanted to say to this girl.

_How dare you insult Mason. What did he ever do to you?_

_You are such a jerk. _

_Wow, great idea! Accuse him of being gay because he likes the arts! Tell that to, oh, say, Leonardo Dicaprio, Mickey Rooney, Ryan Gosling, the like. All males who were in the acting business. So they all desire other men? Hah! You are SUCH a moron. _

_If you insult Mason again, I'll call Catgirl, and no one messes with an angry Catgirl and keeps their teeth._

Then I knew how much trouble I'd get into. Instead, I took a deep breath and said, "Were you going to apologize to Mason?"

"Well, no. I'm sure he'll come back," she replied.

Resisting the urge to lash out with those comebacks, I smirked, "Well, you're too late, Diana. Mason already asked me to the Spring Dance."

Diana just stared at me with a standard teenage look of disbelief and defiance. "Why? Why _you_? You're pretty, I guess, but you're hardly his type! Seriously, you're anorexic!"

"That's his choice. Not yours. Don't you have another arts-minded guy's life to ruin?" I snapped, and sashayed away just as Dad's car drove up.

Anorexic? Seriously? God, I hated her.


	33. Dad

**Chapter 32: Dad**

* * *

I ran to the car and got in, greeting Dad in the process.

"It's Friday, Annie!" Dad exclaimed.

"Sure is!" I replied. "Three cheers for the weekend!"

Laughing, we imitated wolves howling for our 'cheer', and drove away.

* * *

"How was your day?" Dad asked.

"Great! I...Dad, is it okay for me to, er, dance with boys?"

"Is he your age?"

"It's Mason, Dad. He's fourteen."

"WHAT?" Dad yelled, nearly hitting a huge truck. He swerved and pulled over.

"He asked you out?" Dad hissed. I nodded miserably. I wasn't miserable about the date-I was miserable about what Dad was inevitably gonna say about it.

"There's a dance in two weeks for seventh and eighth graders, and then I won't be grounded," I said, hoping I sounded persuasive. "Please, Dad. I really like him."

Dad let out a huge sigh. "Well, okay, I'll strike you a deal. If you get a full score on three of your math assignments, I'll let you go to the dance."

"Yes! I'll work extra hard! Thank you!"

"Also, things to be aware of. One, no drinking. Two, no smoking. Three, don't let him touch you where you don't feel comfortable. Four, no kissing!"

"Okay, Dad," I said obediently. I hardly did that stuff, so I'd be fine.

* * *

A/N: I have no inspiration right now, and I just realized how difficult it is to write about a 13-year-old vigilante in _The Dark Knight_. DEAR LORD!

Oh, by the way, if you want to see a good story about a teen female in Batman's universe, check out _Not a Damsel In Distress _and _The Child of Darkness _by Brilliant Brunette Beauty. You'll love them!


	34. HE LIKES ME!

**Chapter Thirty-Three: HE LIKES ME!**

* * *

Today I didn't go out at night.

I went out at dusk.

I had done all my homework at my parents' insistence, and I had clipped the tracking device to my waist.

It wasn't really a camera. By some technology that I was in sheer ignorance of, it managed to show me and my surroundings while not having a camera aimed at me.

Well, thank God.

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!" I called cheerily.

"Be safe!" Mom called.

"If you kill anyone, no dance for you!" Dad called.

"I won't kill, and I will be safe!" I reassured them. Then I headed out.

* * *

I crept through Gotham, looking for crime as usual.

"Catgirl. Psst. Catgirl!"

I turned and grinned widely to see Fox Boy, who was making a big show of looking for watchful eyes from behind a bush.

"Hi!" I whispered.

"Hi. Dear Lord, I saw Batman, and he 'trained' me in running," Fox Boy complained. "I'm so tired I can barely talk."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed in genuine concern. Then I laughed a little. "Don't worry, Batman was mean to me, too, when I first met him. You'll get used to it. He's hilarious!"

"Hilarious, yes, but not very nice," Fox Boy retorted.

* * *

"Excuse me, I would appreciate it if you did not judge me so quickly!"

I clapped a hand to my mouth to keep the hysterical laughter inside me as Batman flew over and landed gracefully in front of us.

"Fox Boy. Did you mess with her?" Batman growled, pointing to me.

Fox Boy face palmed. "Of course not. What are you, Mr. Paranoid?"

"That's Mr. Diligent to you," Batman snapped. "And quit laughing, Catgirl!"

"Oops! Sorry!" I apologized.

Batman sighed. "Okay, if we are going to work together, you two need to know the implications of this endeavor."

Fox Boy gave me a puzzled look.

"He says that we need to know what could happen if we do this," I whispered.

Yay for my intelligence!

Batman started pacing around. "First, the Joker seems to like you, Catgirl, from what he's said to me. He could easily kidnap you. And Fox Boy...please. The Joker would eat you for breakfast and then laugh while he ties you to a ticking time bomb."

"Hey!" Fox Boy said indignantly. I patted his shoulder in sympathy.

"Also," Batman continued, "Salvatore Maroni could easily kidnap you as well, and you could very possibly be raped by one of his sons. You're a pretty teen. Perfect target for them."

Oh, dear. That did not sound good. Rape sounded horrendous!

But what was it?

"Nobody's touching her on my watch," Fox Boy snarled.

He wanted to protect me...he _liked_ me, folks!

WOOHOO!

My euphoria rush was interrupted by Batman's droning. "I appreciate your concern, Fox Boy, and your crush on her is positively precious."

He had a crush on me? I couldn't control myself anymore.

"Thank the Lord! Thank Jesus! Thank all that is holy!" I shrieked. "He likes me! He really, really likes me!" In ecstasy, I started doing cartwheels all around the two men.

"Yay," Fox Boy grinned, and clapped slightly. But he had that expression on his face that said _you've gone crazy, woman._

"AHEM!" Batman coughed loudly. I immediately stopped being so happy and sat down next to Fox Boy. "Anyway, before your bizarre display of happiness, Catgirl, I was saying that Fox Boy is less trained than you. If anyone is going to be taking down a stalker of Catgirl, it's gonna be me. Is that clear?"

Fox Boy and I nodded meekly.


	35. Dent and Gordon

A/N: I love Commissioner Gordon, don't you? He's such a nice guy who is determined to save Gotham, only more levelheaded about it than Annie. He doesn't get enough credit.

* * *

**Chapter 34: Dent and Gordon**

* * *

Suddenly, Fox Boy and I were flown into the air.

"Whoa!" I yelled.

"Awesome!" Fox Boy was grinning. I grinned back.

We were sitting on Batman's back as he used his bat wings of awesomeness to fly to a building.

We suddenly dipped, and I felt my stomach turn upside-down.

"Take deep breaths, Catgirl." Suddenly, a hand gripped mine. I looked to see..._that Fox Boy was holding my hand. _

Blushing, I smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Dear Lord, this was GREAT! I felt a whole flock of monarch butterflies in my stomach.

Then Batman landed on a building, and a familiar blond guy came to see him.

"You're a hard man to reach," Harvey Dent remarked.

"Hi!" I called.

"Good evening," Harvey replied. "Who's your boyfriend?"

I blushed. "Dude! We aren't dating! His name is Fox Boy."

"Yet," Fox Boy said playfully. I elbowed him and muttered, "Calm yourself."

Then Officer Gordon came towards us.

"Lau's halfway to Hong Kong," Harvey snapped at him. "If you'd have asked, I could have taken his passport. I told you to keep me in the loop."

"All that was left in the vaults were mock bails! They knew we were coming!" Gordon yelled. The poor man was clearly frazzled. He yelled something else at Harvey.

"My office!" Harvey shouted. "You're sitting down there with scum like Wuertz and Ramirez and you're talking...oh, yeah, Gordon. I almost had your rookie cold on a racketeering beam."

"Don't try and cloud the fact that Maroni's clearly got people in-" He never got to finish his sentence.

"Ahem!" I coughed loudly.

Harvey and Gordon turned to look at me.

* * *

"Okay, stop it. Okay? Just stop it. You're acting like a bunch of spoiled teen girls, and I'M a teen girl!" I yelled. "Mr. Gordon, there's no cause for alarm. We have Batman, and Fox Boy and I can kick the daylights out of any mobster. And you, Harvey! Honestly!"

I used a snobby hand gesture and did my best stuck-up-popular-girl imitation. "'Ehmagawd, you work with, like, THE most corrupt cops in, ah, the history of EVAR!' Do you know them? Huh? I know people have opinions, but at least TRY and gather information before making such a hasty judgment, Mr. I-Know-Everything Harvey Dent!"

Harvey took a deep breath. "We need Lau back," he said to the two men.

"Hello! What am I, chopped liver?" I absolutely despised it when people acted like I didn't exist.

"I heard you, I heard you, and I regret to inform you that I feel like punching your lights out," Harvey fired back. "I do not know everything, but I certainly know more than you."

"Prove it," I retorted.

"What does cross-examining mean?" He grinned, but a mean grin, not a happy one.

"Uhh..." I didn't know.

"See?" He smirked.

"Ugh, fine," I conceded snappishly. "Proceed, Harvey."

He said something about the Chinese and international and circumstances.

Batman spoke. "If I get them to you, you'll get them to talk?"

"I'll get them to sing," Harvey said surely. I grinned widely. There was the old confident Harvey I knew and liked!

"We're going after the mob's life savings," Gordon said apprehensively. "Things will get ugly."

"I knew the risks when I took this job, Lieutenant," Harvey replied confidently. "How're you gonna get them back in..." He looked, and so did I, to see that Batman had gone.


	36. You're the Weirdest Bunch I Ever Met

**Chapter Thirty-Five: You're the Weirdest Bunch I Ever Met **

* * *

I suddenly realized how stupid I'd been.

"I'm sorry, Harvey," I whispered.

Harvey chuckled. "Oh, that mousy whisper certainly doesn't sound like the hilariously foolhardy Catgirl I know. Once more, with feeling!"

"_I'M SORRY, MR. DENT_!" I yelled as enthusiastically as I could. It's a wonder I managed to keep my disguised voice.

Fox Boy face palmed. Poor Gordon just looked at me like I had gone mad.

I probably had.

Harvey was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "Priceless! You're forgiven."

"Catgirl, what is it with this dude's sense of humor?" Fox Boy asked.

I laughed, too. "Oh, Fox Boy, this is Harvey Dent we're talking about. He's a bit of an oddball."

"True, true," Harvey gasped. Then he straightened up and fixed his tie. Wait, he was wearing a tie? "Let's get down to business, to defeat the mob! Apparently, the great Batman bailed on us, so we're on our own. Fox Boy, you a good fighter?"

Fox Boy did a series of advanced karate moves which I recognized from training with Batgirl. "At your service!"

"Catgirl, you-" Then as quickly as Batman had left, Barbara Gordon swung in, suit and all.

"Hi!" I called to her. "Join the party!"

"I'd call it more of an emergency gathering," Gordon said dryly. Barb laughed and bounded towards us.

"So what's the big hoopla?" she inquired. Gordon sighed.

"Well, Batgirl...everything," he said. "The Joker is on the loose, Lau is doing God-knows-what..."

"Possibly something illegal," Harvey interrupted.

"Most likely," Gordon countered. "Anyway, we're hard-pressed as to what to do."

"Did you find any evidence?" Batgirl asked.

"Plenty. But he's always doing something different. He's unpredictable."

In an odd gesture, Barb walked over to Gordon and put her hand on his shoulder.

He was her father, I knew. But why do that? What if they found out her identity?

"Well! Two girls dressed as animals, a man dressed as a bat who disappears randomly, and a kid in a ridiculous fox costume," Harvey said.

"It's Fox Boy!" Fox Boy interrupted crossly.

"Whatever. Well, looks like Gordon and I are the only sane ones here."

"Ahem! I am perfectly sane, thank you very much!" Fox Boy and I snapped in unison. When we realized how in sync we were, we looked at each other and blushed.

"What is this, a romantic comedy?" Harvey huffed.

"Enough wisecracks! We have a real problem!" Gordon yelled, silencing us all. Even Harvey looked down at his feet.

* * *

A/N: Did anyone catch the Mulan references? Anyone...anyone...ah, well.

BTW, I love writing Harvey. He is so cool! Well, _was_ so cool.

He's not too goofy in this, is he?

Oh! Harvey wants to tell you all that he doesn't mind being goofy, and that it's a welcome break from being so serious.

Sure thing, DA!


	37. Sappy! Catgirl to Badass! Catgirl

**Chapter 36: Sappy! Catgirl to Badass! Catgirl**

* * *

"The Joker is in Arkham, isn't he?" Barb sounded confused. "Harleen Quinzel is his psychiatrist."

"How do you know that?" Mr. Gordon demanded.

"A little birdie told me," she smiled. Seeing the bewildered looks on our faces, she said, "Oh, Officer Blake did. He kind of reminds me of a bird."

"Blake?" I asked.

"The officer John Blake," she replied. "I once ran into him, and he didn't arrest me..."

Ran into him, my foot! Everybody knew 'Barbara and John, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G'!

"So I overheard him talking to some guy about that crazy Harleen chick who took the Joker. I agree. Who would be bananas enough to befriend _him_?"

True. The Joker sounded like a crazy, psycho, murderous imbecile.

Well. That was very..._strong_ language.

"He has a potent influence," Mr. Gordon said wearily.

"It's not a toxin," Barb said flippantly. "We'll stop him."

"It's not that simple!" Gordon exclaimed. "Evidence shows that that clown and the mob are planning something. They'll be unstoppable!"

I stood there, feeling powerless.

Then I turned to Fox Boy.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I involved you in all this!" I cried. "You deserve to be a normal kid dating girls and playing video games. I'm a crazy chick who thinks she can help. Leave me here."

Fox Boy stared at me. Then he patted my arm, sending happy sensation rippling through me.

"If you ever need help, you know where to find me." And he left.

I nearly cried, then slapped myself.

I was turning into SUCH a sap! Honestly! Before, I'd been a strong, capable heroine, and now here I was melting at the feet of my friend in a ridiculous costume who probably didn't even like me anyway.

"Hey, at least come and discuss the plan!" I snapped. "Don't bail on us, Fox Boy."

"Now that sounds like Catgirl! I was afraid you were that kid's girlfriend!" Batgirl exclaimed. One thing I'll tell you about Batgirl; she's a huge feminist.

I mean it. She's always talking about equal pay and working outside the home and the evils of sexual harassment. And heaven forbid I have a boyfriend-she flipped out when I had a crush on a cute boy from English class back in October 2005.

"Calm yourself. I'm coming." And then Fox Boy was beside me.

I felt happy, but not the insides-melting sort of happy I had felt earlier. It was a strong kind of happiness that made me feel like I could conquer the world.


	38. Frankly

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Frankly**

* * *

"Catgirl, I have an assignment for you," Batgirl said briskly. She handed me a slip of paper with an address on it. "Arkham Asylum. When you get in, ask to talk with Harleen Quinzel. Say to the receptionist, Dinah, that Batgirl sent you. She'll understand what you mean-she's a friend of mine."

"In costume?" I asked. "And what do I say to Ms. Quinzel?"

"Basically, try every way you can to convince her to not take the Joker's case," Barb clarified. "I don't care if you have to go into bitch mode-we do _not _need another Joker pal to harass us. And yes, in costume, at 5:00 PM, when people are clearing out. It closes thirty minutes after that, but Dinah is pretty lax about my friends."

"All right!" I exclaimed. I hated Arkham, but if I could convince one lady to _not _befriend the Joker, it would be worth it.

With that, I climbed down the building, dragging poor Fox Boy along with me.

* * *

The next day was Saturday. Double duh.

Saturday! I was free!

No homework...this was too good to be true.

Sure enough, Mom and Dad humbly requested me to do the dishes and set the table (a fancy way of saying that they ordered me to do chores). After I'd brushed my teeth.

"Don't forget to remember me," Mom hummed.

"What's that?" I asked her.

"Oh, there's a new star in town," Mom replied. "Carrie Underwood."

"Oh, yeah, kids in school talk about her sometimes," I replied. "Is she good?"

"She's great! And she's a country singer," Mom said.

I didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Soon, I was sitting by our computer, singing along to 'Don't Forget To Remember Me', while having trouble on the lower notes.

My parents say I'm a soprano. It sounds AWESOME, but most songs have lower notes than I can hit.

"Mom?" I asked after replaying it for what would have been the tenth time. "What was it like when you left for college?"

"I left for college in 1985," Mom replied. "I had been eighteen for many months then. My parents handed me a map and a coffee and I was out of there!" She laughed. "But it was tearful. I was putting all my stuff in my car, and my mother-your grandmother-lectured me on parties and boys and all that junk. Then-then I was off." She briefly wiped her eyes, then went on cooking.

"Are they alive? Your parents?" I asked. I remembered visiting them in my third-grade summer...2001. But could they be dead, too?

Mom smiled. "Fortunately, they aren't dead. Tom and I are making plans to visit them this summer."

"Awesome!" I exclaimed. It would be great to see them again, after five years! Man!

Then I remembered. At 5:00, I was supposed to...

"Annie," Mom said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "We were using the device, and it appears that you have to go talk to a psychiatrist."

I nodded, embarrassed.

"What am I going to do? What are they going to say?"

"Fine, you can go, but I'll be outside, and do not do _anything_ but talk to the psychiatrist! Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mother," I smiled.

Suddenly, I had an overwhelming urge to see Mason. I have no idea why.

I guess I liked him a lot more than even I thought.

But I was grounded.

"You know," Mom said thoughtfully, as if reading my mind, "while your father and I grounded you, we've realized that you can do it on your own. So as much as I regret to say it, you are ungrounded."

"YES! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Mom!" I exclaimed, and hugged her.

Then my stomach growled, and we had breakfast after Dad came in.

* * *

**Many hours later...**

It was 4:20, and I was pacing around, unsure as to what to do, when I heard a frenzied knocking.

"Who is it?" I called.

The knocking grew louder. Fed up and not realizing that I hadn't combed my hair, I flung the door open to see Mason.

"Uhhhhh..." I was so pleasantly flabbergasted that I could barely manage a 'hello'. Terrific.

Then I said, "What are you doing here?"

Oh, _great_. Just **perfect**. The guy dragged himself here at eight in the morning, and that was all I could say.

I needed help and a good spanking.

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," he joked.

"Huh?" I asked, bewildered.

"Gone With the Wind," he explained. "You'll love Rhett; he's a badass. But Scarlett is a bitch, plain and simple."


	39. Mannieson's First Fight

**Chapter 38: Mannieson's First Fight**

* * *

"Sounds great! You want to come in and watch it?" I inquired.

He shook his head. "Gotta mow the lawn. We need money, big time."

I felt horrible and awkward. Of course the poor guy had a life! Unlike me.

"Um, I'll comb my hair now," I blurted out, and rushed to do so.

I wished my hair could stay shiny and curly like Gloria's. Sadly, although it was thick, it was tangled and boring.

Then I said something which would have made Batgirl hate me forever.

"Mason, I have to go talk to Harley Quinn at five as Catgirl. Will...will you come with me?"

He looked at me, surprised.

Then he smiled. Lordy...

"I bet I can find time. I'll just watch you; you can be awesome on your own."

"T-thank you," I stammered. "Wait. I love you!"

He just stared at me for what seemed like forever, then burst out laughing.

"Hey! I said I love you! What's so funny?" I snapped.

Mason gasped between giggles, "Well, it's strange! I never even kissed you, and you already talk that way."

I felt tears prick at my eyes. "Okay. Go ahead and make me feel bad. How dare I confess how I feel."

"No, wait..." He seemed to have second thoughts.

"And while you're at it, go ask some cute eighth grade girl to the dance, too. I don't want a boyfriend, especially not you!" Then I slammed the door in his face and ran to my room, crying.

* * *

In my room, I couldn't stop my tears. How _dare_ he!

And as I thought of my eight years of schooling so far, I realized that the same thing had happened a _lot_.

I remembered saying things, and nobody paying attention, and I remembered being teased. A lot.

Dear reader, this info will be overwhelming. You have been warned.

I had gotten made fun of for everything-my Southern accent, my weirdness, my awkwardness, my grandparents dying (_long_ story), my clothes, everything. Especially since I was one of the only kids I knew who liked old people.

That was why I didn't talk to anyone in sixth grade-they always laughed at me.

Haha, spoiler alert.

There was even one mean girl named Marcia who used to hang out with Gloria and Charlotte. She had once called me anorexic. Ugh.

I guess I had never really had a friend except Barbara. Nobody in school understood me like she did. And whenever I tried to speak my mind, people laughed and shrugged it off.

And I guess I thought that Mason had betrayed me yet again. Should I have ever trusted him?

* * *

Looking back, I banged my head repeatedly against a wall for being so damn irrational.

On the bright side, Mason was super-forgiving, (and I was only thirteen) as I would soon learn.

Then somebody knocked.

"Mom, I don't want to talk to him. I don't think he ever liked me," I cried.

"What drugs are you on, Annie? Of course I like you! Why else would I ask you to the dance?"

Wait, what? Mortified, and still sniffling, I opened the door to see him.

"How did you get here?" I yelped.

"Simple. I asked your mom," he replied.

"I hate to be mean, but it's 4:35. We have to go now," he said urgently.

Oops! Right! "I'll go get ready."

* * *

When we were ready, we headed out, not touching. It was as if we were strangers.

The sun was beginning to set.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Fox Boy asked.

"Dunno," I mumbled.

"To get to the other side!" he laughed.

* * *

"Hilarious," I said sarcastically.


	40. Harleen Quinzel and Miss Lance

A/N: So now Mason and Annie are fighting. For the first time in forever!

_**Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymore...**_

All right! So Annie is in bold, and Older Annie is in bold and italics. Clear? Good.

**What's gonna happen next, Jaz?**

I don't know, and...

**_Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Now get the new chapter started!_**

Of course you don't, Older Annie. You already know how this is all going to play out.

**Jaz, thanks for telling them my backstory last chapter. I don't like talking about it-lots of people think I have it made, but it sucked.**

It certainly did. Don't worry, Catgirl. You have me, Fox Boy, Batgirl, and Blaze to talk to if you ever feel down.

**Thank you.**

* * *

**Chapter 40: Harleen Quinzel and Miss Lance**

* * *

We had told Mom that we would be going instead of her. Mom had made Mason promise to watch me, or else she'd break his hand with her rolling pin.

That is not pleasant, believe me.

"You're a crier, aren't you?" Fox Boy murmured as we walked near buildings.

"Nah," I whispered. "I guess I just _feel_ things."

"That's a good quality," he replied.

I sighed. "Fox Boy, have you ever felt like nobody listens to you?"

"All the time." He sounded surprised. "Why? Does no one listen to you?"

"Yeah," I said. "Back in the early 2000s, when I was a kid, I had this Southern accent like this one. People called me a redneck, and I had to hide it. I've hid it for three years."

"That's rough. What else do they tease you about?"

"They teased me about my lack of a figure, my weirdness, and everything else, I guess. I guess nobody got me like Batgirl did."

"She's your friend?"

"Yeah."

We walked on in silence.

"Fox Boy, sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, people laugh and shrug me off. Sometime I feel like I'm just below everything."

"Everybody's below something. You're above a lot of divas in our school."

I wanted to kiss him. But we had already reached Arkham.

People were clearing out, as Barb had said, and we snuck inside. Thank God that idiot Crane wasn't leading it anymore!

I saw a pretty blonde girl sitting at a desk, a phone nestled near her ear as she wrote down notes (presumably) and talked with someone on the phone.

I read the name tag perched on her desk. Dinah Lance. What a pretty name!

Fox Boy stared at her, enthralled. Traitor.

She hung up the phone and glared at him. "Go stare at something else, birdbrain. I already have a boyfriend."

"It's Fox Boy," he informed her. "And I apologize for my wandering eyes."

A friendly smirk appeared on her face. "I guess I can forgive you. But who are you two?"

"I'm Catgirl. Batgirl sent me," I blurted out.

Her eyes sparkled with understanding. "Oh, I see. She told me about you. Great girl, she is. Lucky you weren't staring at her, Fox Boy, or she'd kick the crap out of you. Okay, follow me, and I'll take you to Harleen."

* * *

"What's your boyfriend's name?" Fox Boy asked Dinah as we walked. I nearly screamed.

"Ollie," she replied. "By the way, Catgirl looks kind of sad. Quit flirting with me. Besides, Ollie and I will kick your ass if you mess with me."

"Never crossed my mind," Fox Boy said grandly, and I forgave him.

At last, we reached a room with a short, blonde doctor sitting in a table in the center.

"Go talk to her," Dinah whispered, and so I did.

I went and sat down, my skin crawling with anxiety.

"Hi," I mumbled.

The lady watched me with piercing blue eyes that suggested a strong intellect beyond her years.

Hah, she could be thirty for all I knew.

* * *

A/N: Ah. Cliffhanger!

And Black Canary is in here! AWESOMESAUCE!

I can just see Dinah as a receptionist, and Oliver might meet her while going for a job interview *evil grin*

BTW, does anyone else ship Dinah and Oliver? I do!


	41. More Harleen Quinzel

_A/N: I'm back! So my basic editing is done. The early chapters are now much more realistic and introspective. Lasgalendil would be proud :)_

* * *

**Chapter 40: More Harleen Quinzel**

* * *

"I heard," the lady (presumably Harleen) said at last. "You wanted to talk to me, correct?"

"Yes," I replied, slowly regaining confidence. "I will try as hard as possible to dissuade you from taking the Joker's case."

Harleen looked at me with a mixture of hopeless submission and jaded cynicism. "Why?"

Okay, that was it.

"Why? Look, madam, I'm sorry, but that man is a murderous psycho. He killed people by slicing scars into their mouth!"

"What's your proof?" Her eyes were cold and hard.

"Well...well...I just know! And people like that don't deserve help."

"He might not deserve it, but he needs it right now," she snapped, standing up. "I am a doctor here and I am professionally trained to deal with these things. I have seen more than an overconfident, self-righteous teenager like you can ever imagine."

"_Excuse_ _me_?" I snarled in disbelieving anger. Ohh, now it was on.

"Miss Quinzel, is she bothering you?" A thin man came in. His name tag said _Jeremiah Arkham_.

"Yes," Harleen said coldly. "She has no right to interfere in my personal life. Take her out!"

All at once, a bunch of guards came and grabbed me, and while I kicked and screamed they threw me outside into the yard.

"Get out and stay out!" one of them roared, and slammed the door, but not before Fox Boy slipped through.

* * *

"Sorry," he whispered as we walked home.

"It's okay," I muttered. "I hate that doctor! She doesn't know anything about me and called me self-righteous when I was just trying to help."

We beat up some thugs and saved some civilians before we went our separate ways.

"I'll see you later, Fox Boy," I said, and kissed him on the cheek.

He put his hand on my own cheek. "Sayonara, Catgirl." And he left.


	42. Banned

**Chapter 41: Banned**

* * *

I was sure I was banned from Arkham forever.

Good riddance. That place was the pits.

And that Harleen...what a jerk! How dare she say those things!

I went and entered my room as usual, changed out of my costume as usual, and went to see my parents as usual.

"Harleen is a good lady, Annie," Dad said. "She was probably just surprised."

"That doesn't give her any right to call me what she did," I grumbled.

Mom had been too tired to cook, so she had heated up bean-and-cheese burritos for us. Fair enough.

I sat in front of the TV, flipping through channels until I saw a showing of _Superman_. It was an old movie, made all the way back in 1978.

Dad loved it, and so did I.

We sat and watched the movie, enthralled, as Christopher Reeve kicked butt as Superman. Superman was AWESOME! Always ready to help and save the day, and so cheerful!

And then he kissed Lois Lane. Of course.

Mom and Dad kissed too.

"Gross!" I exclaimed. They laughed.

Ah, who was I to talk? I had kissed Fox Boy.

I liked him. I really did.

It was time to tell Mom.

"Mom and Dad," I said.

They paused the movie and looked up at me.

I moved in front of them and sighed. "I have something important to tell you."

I gulped. "I like Mason. I'm falling for him."

Dad face palmed.

Mom smiled knowingly. "I knew it would happen. It always happens. The girl always falls for the boy if he's her friend. I haven't seen one example that proved me wrong."

I almost laughed in relief. They were okay with it!

"And he asked me to a dance," I said carefully.

Mom gasped.

"Okay, Mary, so we have a deal that if she gets a full score on three of her math assignments, she can go," Dad explained. "And she knows the rules. Right, Annie?"

I nodded. "Don't do drugs and alcohol, don't dance inappropriately, wear modest clothing, and don't let boys touch you."

"Then we better pick out a dress!" Mom exclaimed.

Yes! I needed a dress. My graduation dress didn't fit me like it used to, due to my increased height from when I was twelve.

"Let's do it tomorrow," Mom said. I nodded, and we kept watching the movie.


	43. People Will Die

_A/N: So the stuff that happens in TDK is happening,but while all this stuff happens to Annie._

_*crickets* _

_What? I didn't understand half of what was going on in there!_

* * *

**Chapter 42: People Will Die**

* * *

We watched and laughed at the comedy, cheered when Superman defeated the bad guy, cried at the emotional parts, and d'awwwed (I didn't groan as much) when Superman and Lois kissed.

Overall, it was a great Saturday.

"Annie, go check your school's website and see if anything's due on Monday," Mom said.

"Yes, Mom," I muttered, and went to our computer. I started it up and typed in the school's website.

Everything due, I had done, thank God.

But the dance was no longer in two weeks.

Curse that forgetful Mason! It was on Tuesday!

"MOM!" I screamed.

"What?" she yelled back.

"The dance is on TUESDAY!" I exclaimed.

"What?!" she yelled again. "Okay, that is it, young lady. We are picking out a dress tomorrow!"

Dad groaned, and I giggled.

"I can't wait!" I exclaimed.

That's when the news came.

We switched to the news channel to see a video that would change my life forever.

* * *

"Tell them your name," the Joker crooned falsely to some poor fake Batman who was tied up.

He mumbled something.

"Are you the real Batman?" the Joker asked in false wonder.

In a shaky voice, 'Batman' said no.

"No? No?" Then he started giggling. "Then why do you dress up like him?" And he yanked off the mask to reveal some guy. "Heh-heh, heheh, woohoohoo!"

"We don't have to be afraid of scum like you," the fake Batman said with more conviction. Yes. He was right.

"Yeah, you do, Bryan," the Joker said in a cloyingly sweet voice. His voice grew rough. "You really do! Oh, shhh. So you think Batman's made Gotham a better place?"

"YES!" I exclaimed.

"Well...LOOK AT ME!" he screamed in a positively terrifying voice. Then his face showed up. "You see, this is how crazy Batman's made Gotham!"

"Bastard!" I yelled at the screen. How dare he!

"Damn," Dad said quietly.

The Joker was breathing hard. "You want order in Gotham, the Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in. Oh, and every day he doesn't, people will die. Starting tonight. I'm a man of my word." Then he started laughing, and the screen spun around and around, and the man screamed.

No...

All this time, he had been doing this, and I hadn't helped.

"It's all right, sweetie," Mom said, pulling me close to her. "You don't understand how the mob works."

"No," I agreed, my face buried in her shoulder.

"Batman is there and we are if you ever need help," Dad piped up.

I smiled. "I know." Then I got up and went to bed.

* * *

The next day, Mom and Dad were giggling over a letter. My eyes still blurry from sleep, I stumbled in and croaked, "Hi."

"Annie, we're invited to Harvey Dent's fundraiser party!" Mom exclaimed.

Fundraiser? I vaguely remembered Harvey and Bruce talking about that...but why did he need it _now_?

"Mom, I don't have..."

"A dress? Yes, we should go pick one out."

And so we did.

* * *

In Gotham Mall, there were hundreds of dresses to choose from. I couldn't decide.

Some were way too short, some were far too long. Some had huge sleeves, and some had none. Some had necklines that would make Selina Kyle blush, and some had barely-there ones.

Lordy...

I saw the perfect shade then. Indigo! That was different!

I started looking for indigo dresses and came up with a bunch of dresses that I didn't like...until I saw it.

It went just below the knees, had ruffles at the bottom and at the ends of the sleeves, and had a small neckline. It was perfect.

We also picked out an ankle-length hot pink dress with elbow-length sleeves for the dance and blue strappy sandals to go with my indigo dress.

We were ready.

* * *

At home, I tried on the dress, and twirled around in it. I felt hot!

"You look beautiful," Mom and Dad praised me.

A knock sounded on our door. "If you don't mind my asking, you did invite me to this party, correct?"

OH MY GOSH! They'd invited him!

I quickly went to brush my teeth, put on makeup, and put my hair into a cute half-up half-down style. Then I opened the door to see Mason.

"Hi!" I squealed, and we hugged. He was wearing a tux and cologne, and his hair was slicked back.

Dad groaned-again.

Then we went to the party.


	44. Those God Awful Campaign Commercials

**Chapter Forty-Three: Those God Awful Campaign Commercials**

* * *

When we reached the party, I saw Bruce wasn't there. Odd.

"Don't worry; he's usually fashionably late," a guest whispered to us. I laughed.

I saw Mason chatting with a couple of pretty girls, but when he saw me, he left them.

"Make up your mind, loonhead!" I hissed in mock disgust. "It's either me or somebody else. Choose already!"

"We're not dating, Annie," he reminded me.

"Oh, yeah." I remained next to him until I saw a familiar man walk in.

Harvey Dent! And Rachel! I rushed over to them.

"Harvey Dent, scourge of the underworld, scared stiff by the trust fund brigade," Rachel was giggling. "I'll be back."

"Rachel-" he said, but she had already gone.

"Hi!" I exclaimed. He looked at me.

"Well, hello!" he said. "Thank God another familiar face is here! Aren't these people insane?"

I shook my head. "I like them. They're so elegant!"

Harvey facepalmed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

"A little liquid courage, Mr. Dent?" good old Alfred asked, walking towards us with glasses of wine.

"Thank you," Harvey said.

"May I have a Coke?" I said politely.

Alfred almost magically produced a nice tall glass of Coke with ice and a straw. "At your service, Miss Annie."

"Thanks!" I exclaimed.

"Alfred, right?" Harvey asked.

"That's right."

"Yeah, Rachel talks about you all the time. You've known her her whole life."

"Oh, not yet, sir."

Harvey laughed. "Any psychotic ex-boyfriends I should be aware of?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Alfred said. he grinned and walked away.

I knew that was supposed to be funny, but I felt angry. How dare they talk about Bruce that way!

"Annie, you have to admit that Bruce is a little off his rocker," Harvey said placidly.

"Maybe, but you have no right to laugh at him," I snarled.

Harvey laughed so hard then that he nearly spit out his wine. "You're hilarious! Say, don't you have a date?"

"You called?" Mason said calmly, coming up behind us. I smiled at him and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"'Sup?" Harvey said. "Dude, at least agree with me that these people are crazy."

Mason nodded. Traitor.

* * *

"Look!" Mason exclaimed. I turned to where he was pointing to see a helicopter flying toward the building.

It came to a stop, and two ladies walked in..._with Bruce Wayne_!

AWESOMENESS!

I want to be late like that someday, instead of the clumsy way in which I end up late.

"I'm sorry that I'm late. I'm glad to see that you all got started without me," Bruce said.

I got to the front of the crowd and waved eagerly.

He smiled and nodded at me. Oh, that smile...

"And now, where is Harvey?" he asked. Harvey Dent was right in front of him. Ha! "Where...Harvey. The man of the hour. Where's Rachel Dawes? She is my oldest friend. Come here."

Poor guy. I bet he still liked her.

Rachel walked forward.

"You know, when Rachel first told me that she was dating Harvey Dent, I had one thing to say," Bruce declared.

I couldn't decide who I liked better-him or Mason!

"The guy from those god-awful campaign commercials?" he continued, derisive laughter in his voice. "I believe in Harvey Dent? Yeah, nice slogan, Harvey. But it got Rachel's attention." She did not look happy.

"And then I started to pay attention to Harvey. All the things he's been doing, as our new D.A., and you know what?"

I held my breath, anxious for his answer.

"I believe in Harvey Dent," he said, and I smiled, happiness filling me. "I believe that on his watch, Gotham can feel a little safer, a little more optimistic. Look at this face. This is the face of Gotham's bright future. To Harvey Dent. Let's hear it for him."

Everybody clapped, including me.


	45. Something Clicked

**Chapter 44: Something Clicked**

* * *

Then Bruce turned and walked outside. Rachel followed him.

Then Rachel came back, and she and Harvey talked hurriedly to each other.

"Bet he's gonna marry her," I joked.

"I personally think his level of devotion to her, from what I've seen, is dangerously unhealthy," Mason remarked.

I swatted his face in mock disgust. "Oh, calm yourself! At least he isn't a philanderer like you!"

"_I'm_ not the one with a huge crush on the unattainable Prince of Gotham," he retorted with a friendly smirk.

We play-fought with each other using cheese on toothpicks until a guest cleared her throat. I immediately swiped both cheese cubes and ate them.

"Hey!" Mason protested.

I laughed and ran off to the balcony, calling, "Catch me if you can!"

I heard him running after me, and then he finally caught me and swung me around in the air.

It was MAJESTICALLY SPLENDID.

He set me down, while both of us giggled in joy.

"I'm gonna go get some more cheese," he said. "See ya." And he left.

I felt as if a shard of glass had pierced my heart at his leaving, filling me with more pain than I had known in all my thirteen years on this planet.

I then turned and saw Bruce, staring out into space.

"Hey, Bruce!" I called, and rushed to stand near him. "I'm really glad to see you! Do I look cute? I really love this dress! Do you?"

Ah, me and my crushes on sexy, elusive, badass billionaires. Poor Mason.

He turned and smiled down at me. "Well, looks like a supermodel has invaded Annie's body."

"Oh, I'm not that pretty!" I blushed.

"You certainly are." He laid his hand on my head, and I nearly fell over due to the giddy butterflies in my stomach.

We smiled at each other, but his was a sad smile. "Rachel promised me that if I gave up Batman, we would be together. Now...I don't know if she'll keep that promise."

I couldn't take seeing him so depressed. "Of course she will. If she doesn't, then she isn't worth it."

"Aren't you with that kid who's always flirting with pretty girls?" Bruce smirked.

I felt embarrassed, strangely. "I'm not dating him. That's just what he does. He...he..."

I turned away and ran to the other side of the balcony. "Never mind."

"You don't have to talk about it," Bruce called.

I sighed and went back to him. "I know."

"Annie, sometimes you just have to do what you gotta do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed. "I dunno. Hah, _I_ don't know. But I do love somebody else, even thoug. She couldn't care less about me."

Then somebody came who I thought I'd never see again.

* * *

"Anybody know where to find more champagne?" Selina Kyle asked us.

How did she get here?

Bruce was staring at her and grinning like an idiot. I face palmed.

She was going _down_. And she better not have flirted with Mason...

"J-just go to the s-snack table, and there's, uh, a c-couple of bottles under it," Bruce stammered, visibly euphoric.

She smirked. "Of course, sweetie. See you around." And she left.

Bruce whistled loudly.

Selina whirled, her eyes flashing. "Sexual harassment isn't cool, rich boy. You want me, you'll have to do better than that."

"I am prepared," Bruce said, regaining confidence.

"This is going to be a challenge," she said.

"I love challenges," Bruce said boldly. "Come to my place for coffee at nine a.m. tomorrow?"

"I wake up at nine. I'll be there by twelve. Later." She was gone then.

Oddly, I didn't feel angry. I mean, I did, but I also felt like...like this was right. As mean as Selina was, there was something that clicked between them. Something I hadn't seen in Bruce and Rachel.


	46. Very Poor Choice of Words

**Chapter Forty-Five: Very Poor Choice of Words**

* * *

"She's sexy," Bruce breathed.

"Ew!" I squealed, and fled back into the party.

I didn't know what to do. Mason was God-knows-where, and Harvey was off flirting with Rachel or something. Ugh!

I decided to...there was a stage up there.

Just do it.

I started walking toward the stage when I looked, and Bruce wasn't at the balcony.

Harvey was nowhere to be seen.

Then suddenly, I heard a familiar voice say, "We made it."

Oh, no.

_The Joker._

He fired his gun as placidly as if he was ordering French fries. I gasped.

Not the memory...not that memory...I managed to edge it out of my mind. It was three years ago. They were in a better place.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he said conversationally. "We are tonight's entertainment!"

_That's my job!_ I thought angrily.

"I only have one question." He chewed on some weird food thing. "Where is Harvey Dent?"

Oh, no. No, no, no.

He pointed his gun at scared ladies and emptied a glass of wine on the floor. Then drank it.

_That_ wasn't odd at all.

Why wasn't I scared? I was supposed to be scared!

Maybe because I'd faced a psycho doctor in my day. This jerk wasn't gonna get the better of me.

But I did feel a chilly fear deep in my heart.

He kind of slapped a couple of people. "You know where Harvey is? Do you know who he is?"

Okay, scratch that. The chilly fear was times ten.

What was he gonna do? What if he decided to kill me, then spare me, and then kill Mason? He had said that what he wanted changed quickly.

I can safely say I was petrified.

But I didn't need to be controlled by it.

"Hey, stop," I said, but he didn't notice.

"You know, I'll settle for his loved ones," the Joker said in a bit more relenting way as he stepped up to an old man.

"We're not intimidated by your thugs!" the man spat.

_Yeah!_ I cheered inwardly. _Go, old man! You read my mind! Stay brave in the face of this moron!_

"You know, you remind me of my father," the Joker said. His voice suddenly grew rough as he grabbed the man and held a knife to his mouth. "I _**hated**_ my father!"

"Okay, stop." I turned to see Rachel step out of the crowd and hold his gaze defiantly.

"Well, hello, beautiful." Harvey was going to kick his butt. "You must be Harvey's squeeze. Hmm? And you are beautiful."

He got closer to her, and she shrunk away.

What. A. Jerk. Couldn't he see she didn't like him?

"Oh, you look nervous. Is it the scars?" His voice grew low and conspiratorial, like mine might if I had a huge secret I wanted to tell Gloria or Charlotte. "You wanna know how I got 'em? C'mere. Hey. Look at me."

She was going to learn the story, too! But what he said astonished me.

"So I had a wife, beautiful, like you. Who tells me I worry too much. Who tells me I oughta smile more. Who gambles, and gets in deep with the sharks."

What the heck? This wasn't the story at all! What about Linda and her crazy best friend?

But the Joker didn't care. "Hey. One day they carve her face, and we have no money for surgery. She can't take it. I just wanna see her smile again. Hmm? I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars! So, I stick a razor in my mouth, and do this to myself." He imitated slicing his mouth open. "And you know what? _She can't stand the sight of me_!"

I certainly couldn't. I don't think any sane woman could.

"And she leaves." Duh. What idiot would love him?

"Now I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling-oof!"

Rachel had kicked him right in...that area. Between the legs.

"You go, girl!" I yelled.

"Ooh, you got a little fight in ya. I like that."

"Then you're gonna love me."

He was here! The Batman!

I simply watched in awe as my friend swooped in and kicked butt, and a heated fight scene ensued.

Then all of a sudden, it stopped, and the Joker was holding Rachel by gunpoint over a building.

Wait, WHAT?

"Drop the gun," Batman growled.

"Oh, sure, you just take off your little mask and show us all who you really are, hmm?" the Joker said insanely. "Hahaha!" And he shot the window through.

Then he hauled Rachel through and held her out so that if he let go, that would be the end of her.

"Let her go," Batman rasped.

With a bewildered expression, the Joker said, "Very poor choice of words."

Then he let go, and I screamed.

* * *

_A/N: WELL! What a chapter!_

_Sorry, but things to do, places to be, so I shall go and I will see you all tomorrow! BYE!_


	47. I Ain't No Mopey Kid

**Chapter 46: I Ain't No Mopey Kid**

* * *

No...no!

Then Batman jumped out the window.

**DOUBLE NO!**

I started to run to save him, but a surprisingly strong arm held me back.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mason hissed.

"I have to save him!" I shot back. "I can't just let him die."

"The guy weighs 180 pounds _at least_, and he's the goddamn Batman. He's fine. We have to get out of here."

"Sometimes I hate you." A glare from him silenced me.

He had a surprisingly potent glare. It reminded me of Dad's...

"Are Mom and Dad okay?" I asked worriedly. I had already lost two of my closest friends three years ago; I didn't need to lose my flesh and blood parents.

"Annie! Annie!"

I broke away from Mason and ran to hug my parents, shooting him an apologetic look.

He smiled a little and nodded. Oh, that ever-dependable, ever-forgiving boy! He deserved chocolate chip cookies!

I don't even like chocolate chip cookies, funny enough.

But Mason loves them.

He actually screamed "_Blasphemy_!" loud enough for our neighbors to hear when I told him the horrifying truth; that I dislike chocolate.

Nutella was awesome. Chocolate bars? Chocolate candy in general? No, thanks.

"Annie, are you okay?" Mom inquired, her voice full of anxiety.

"I'm fine. What about you guys?"

"We're okay. That clown..."

I hated him. I hated him with a passion.

"I saved her," Mason said proudly.

"You did not!" We started play-fighting with each other again, and then we saw that the Joker was gone.

Huh. That confusing circus reject.

* * *

Haha. Circus reject.

Hilarious! I had to store that comeback away for future use.

Everyone else was filing away in nervous crowds, despite Bruce's loud assurances that everything was okay.

Wait, how did he get here?

This was just weird.

"Sorry about our crappy first date," Mason whispered.

"It's all good." I felt a little bad, but he didn't deserve my anger/rage/sadness/whatever the heck I was feeling right now. Besides, I thought our date was great! Certainly better than the one where _that_ happened...

No. That date did not exist. We do not speak of it.

The four of us drove home, shaken to the core by that creep known as the Joker.

I despised him. He...

He killed Batman.

Yes! He threw Rachel off the building, thereby causing Batman to jump after her...and my friend was most likely dead.

I wanted to cry...but I couldn't. I had to stay strong. That was who I was.

I wasn't some mopey kid who always whined and moaned about her troubles and hurt people because her life was the pits. I always got back up again. Always.

You could beat me down, yell at me, but I'd always survive. Always.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so I like this chapter because we can see that Annie wants to snap, but she can't, because others won't let her, but mostly because she won't let herself. She has too much pride :)_

_And sorry to go on a rant, but I think that's what I love about her character-unlike MANY OCs on here, who just bitch and moan about their troubles instead of doing anything, you know, USEFUL (don't forget the excessive sarcasm they use), Annie stays strong and sees the good in life, And because Annie doesn't have those kind of troubles, her character took a path that most OCs on here don't walk-telling **herself** to lock up her feelings, not society telling her because of her dead parents or something. She seems like she has a normal life, has it made-but she does not._

_I'll stop fangirling now. Happy reading! _


	48. That Lau Guy

**Chapter Forty-Seven: That Lau Guy**

* * *

When Mom, Dad, and I reached home, Mom offered to have Mason over for dinner.

"Nah, I'll just go home," he smiled. He looked at me with a warm gaze. "I'll see you at school, Annie."

"Yeah," I smiled. "See ya." And he was gone, leaving me grinning like a moron.

"I like that boy," I whispered as we went inside.

* * *

The next day was Monday. Terrific.

As I walked through the halls, I heard kids talking about 'that clown'. The Joker.

"Did you hear? Commissioner Loeb is dead!" one girl hissed excitedly to her friend.

Huh? That name sounded familiar...oh, wait. That guy.

I never thought I'd say this, but good riddance.

Not saying he deserved to die, but he was the one who had insulted and slandered Catgirl when he didn't even know her-or should I say, me.

At least he didn't know who was behind the mask. Or else Bruce would be ticked off.

That was never pretty.

Then the girl was staring in confusion at me. "Good riddance? Why?"

_Had I just said that out loud? _Oh, dear.

"U-um..." I regained my confidence. "Because he said all those mean things about Catgirl."

"How do you know she isn't just acting out?" **Excuse** me?

"I do know! She's my friend! She..." But the girl was already talking to her friend, as if I wasn't even there.

That, dear reader, is a prime example of me being shrugged off as if I was some disagreeable, unnecessary piece of lint.

I listened in and caught stuff about that Lau guy (who the heck was he, anyway?), and how he ended up bailing on the mob.

Well, thank the Lord for that.

Then the bell rang, and I was off to P.E.

* * *

"Private! Something wrong?" Mr. Smithes barked, but sounded concerned.

"It's nothing," I whispered.

"I can't hear ya! Louder!"

"It's just that there's this Lau guy whom I never heard of, and I accidentally said good riddance to Loeb, and I got brushed off like a piece of lint!" Whew! I actually liked yelling.


	49. Charlotte

**Chapter 48: Charlotte**

* * *

"Thank God you're alive! I thought that the sassy little Private Annie was dead! One lap, all of you! Go!" my teacher ordered.

* * *

After P.E., I was off to math.

First, we were handed a couple of homework assignments back. Three.

_And I had full scores on all of them._

YES! Thank God!

"All right, why don't you all work in groups today on the new assignment? Go!" Madame Depaul commanded, and three people around me and I scooted our chairs so that we were facing each other.

"So, how would you do it?" I asked Charlotte.

"I don't know, and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," she joked.

"Gone With the Wind!" I exclaimed. When everybody gave me funny looks, I explained, "Mason told me."

"Her boyfriend." Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows, and the girls cracked up laughing.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do. I didn't like that, but I didn't know how to say it without looking like a complete jerk.

"He's not my boyfriend." My voice came out choked and whispery. I was going to cry, I just knew it. Wonderful.

"Calm yourself," one girl said. "We were just joking."

I took a deep breath. "I know."

"Anyway, how to do it?" Charlotte asked, bringing us all back into order. She just had that gift-she could command anyone, especially a boy, into silent obedience.

The other girls had good tips, and I tried saying what I thought, but nobody paid attention.

I wanted to cry, but I had to be strong.

"You okay?" one girl asked quizzically, but not in a nice way. It was the 'you must be crazy' sort of way.

"Don't mind her," Charlotte said quickly. "She stayed up till three a.m. to study for our science test, so she's a little bitchy today."

"Thanks, I'm fine," I said quickly.

"You sure?" said Charlotte. "You seem to be holding a lot of things in."

I blushed. "That's just the way I am, I guess."

Thank God, the bell rang then.

"Bye, Charlotte! I'll see you later!" I smiled, and ran to science. She was like Barbara-my only friend.


	50. Mrs Smithes

**Chapter Forty-Nine: Mrs. Smithes**

* * *

In science, I took my regular seat, which, unfortunately, wasn't next to Parveen. It was next to this boy with acne. We didn't say much to each other.

Mr. Agarwal announced a lab, and everybody went to pick partners.

The boy found a partner, and I was left alone-oh,wait, Parveen!

She immediately walked over, and we started talking about the lab.

"Parveen!"

We turned to see Mr. Agarwal smiling at us.

"आप एक नया दोस्त बना दिया है लगता है! अच्छा तुम दो मज़ा कर रहे हैं देखने के लिए," he said.

Completely bewildered, I ended up writing the words down.

Yeah, spoiler alert; I entered them in Google Translate, and that came out. Ah, Mr. Agarwal.

"मुझे पता है! शुक्रिया, सर!" Parveen exclaimed.

Why couldn't I know a different language?

We kept working on our project, but I felt left out until Parveen started whispering to me.

"Did you hear? Since Loeb's dead, we're not going to school tomorrow!"

"Awesome!" I whispered. "Not that he's dead-"

"Oh, I don't know. I saw what he said about that Catgirl, and while she is a little extreme, his comments were way off the mark. The GCPD didn't defeat Rochelle; she did."

I grinned, glowing with pride. "Yeah, you're right."

"Thank God. I thought I was the only one."

"Haha, you certainly aren't! We're the _In Favor of Catgirl_ club!"

We fist-bumped, and she whispered, "I am sad that he's dead, though. He didn't deserve it."

"Yeah," I said, but I thought, _He kind of did._

* * *

Soon after, it was time for English. I rushed in just before the bell, sitting down quickly in my seat.

I caught Cathy's eye from the next table and smiled at her.

She gave me a half-smile and nodded.

"All right, class!" Mrs. Smithes called. "Did you all read the chapters that you were assigned?"

I nodded vigorously. It was a great book so far! And it was so cute reading about Thomas Wayne's first crush.

"Great, then! I've got some workload off my head," she said, and took a drink out of a Coca-Cola bottle. I wanted that bottle...

I think I said it before, but I never refuse a soda.

"All right, so what happened in Chapter 4?"

I raised my hand.

"Yes, Annie?"

"Thomas Wayne got his first crush," I said proudly, and everyone laughed. But I had a feeling they weren't teasing.

"Yes, Thomas Wayne fell in love for the first time. I bet you all know how it turns out, what with your dating and your romance at age thirteen."

A year ago, I would have excused myself and retched in the girls' bathroom. Now, although I wasn't dating anyone (Mason came close-very close), I could relate.

"Way to spoil it, Mrs. Smithes," Richie, a guy who sat in the back, groaned. Everybody laughed. Again.

"Well, I didn't really. In a way, we all did," Mrs. Smithes said wisely.

So we read on, and poor Thomas got dumped. Hard.

It's amazing how he went on to be such a great man despite how hard his life was at first. Of course, _some_ people thought he had it easy because he was rich.

If only they knew.

I saw the girl who had insulted Thomas Wayne talking with her bubblegum-colored-hair friend. While we were reading.

"Lola, could you try focusing?" Mrs. Smithes said sharply. I love her.

"Yes, Mrs. Scythe," she muttered. They snickered to each other.

"Hey, quit it," I called, but they gave me dirty looks. Feeling a little intrusive, I shrank back in my chair.


	51. Harley?

**Chapter 50: Harley?**

* * *

I guess English went by after that.

"Hey, I know what the project is," Cathy said to a friend of hers as we packed up.

"I'm announcing it on Wednesday! Now stay put until the bell rings!" Mrs. Smithes ordered.

And so we did. And so the bell rang.

The day happened as usual, and then when the dismissal bell rang, I charged toward the place where I waited.

* * *

Mason was there as usual. "Hey."

"Hi!" I greeted him back.

Oh, no. _THE DANCE WAS ON TUESDAY!_ And Tuesday was a holiday!

As if he'd read my mind, Mason said, "Oh, they moved the dance to Wednesday. Phew!"

"Yeah, thank goodness. I have the best dress!"

"I bet you do."

We sat there for a moment, awkwardly.

"So," I said, in an attempt to fill the crushing silence with words.

"_So_?"

"I don't know," I admitted helplessly. He burst out laughing.

"Calm yourself," I muttered, but I knew he was only joking. Unlike the mean girls Charlotte hung out with...

"What happened to you?" Dang him and his weird mind-reading.

"I just got brushed off a lot today, and Charlotte said I hold things in. Is that true?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I've known you long enough that I can tell when you're feeling low, but a lot of the time, you just shrug it off. You have to face it."

"Well..." I grew defensive. "I can't just complain about my feelings all the time!"

"Sometimes you have to moan about it," he said.

"Well, I know that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You never seemed to be one for bitching 24/7."

Then Dad drove up, and I said goodbye to my 'boyfriend'.

But what he said stayed in my mind.

* * *

At home, I immediately started watching TV. My absolute favorite show was God-knows-where, but the next best thing was on..._Superman_.

"Yeah, Superman! Take him down!" I cheered as that big blue lovable hero beat up the bad guy.

But as I kept watching, sadness began to gnaw at me.

I wished it could be that simple. I wished Batman could swoop in and stop the Joker (and scold Harleen Quinzel a good one) just like that. I wished that the poor fake Batman wouldn't have had to die.

On TV, Superman was faced with life-threatening situations, but he got out of them and everyone was happy. Here?

Here, we were faced with stupid situations like a crazy clown taking over the city, and _nothing_ was getting better. Nothing.

"I wish Superman was real," I muttered. "I wish Superman could magically tell me how not to look like an idiot. I wish he could be my friend."

I let out a sigh. "Bit I know that isn't true."

In a spirit of melancholy, I turned off the TV and went to do my homework.

* * *

That night...

I ran through the night, beating up thugs and saving people.

Then I heard a punch, and a triumphant yell.

Fox Boy!

"Dude!" I called, running toward him. "What are you doing?"

Fox Boy grinned up at me. "Getting info! Batman taught me!" He glowered at the cowardly thug tied up before him. "WHO KILLED LOEB? Tell me!"

Dang, he was good. Better than me.

"I-I dunno! Honest!" the thug stuttered.

"I don't care if you have an encyclopediac knowledge of the thing or have no idea what I'm talking about. You have friends who work for that bastard clown. Tell me their names, or else!" He pulled out a switchblade.

Where did he get that from? Maybe I should be scared. Jealous?

But I wasn't. In a way, I was glad Fox Boy was finally becoming his own hero.

"G-grumpy, Happy, and Do-dopey!" the thug wailed like a little kid. "Those are their names! Let me go!"

Fox Boy rolled his eyes and let the thug go.

"Good job," I said, awed.

"Haha, it wasn't that great. I wasn't intimidating enough."

* * *

"You don't need to be."

He looked at me with a searching gaze. "Meaning?"

I didn't quite know. "I had it, Fox Boy. I had it, but..."

Then I knew. I knew exactly what I had meant. "Fox Boy! You don't need to be intimidating! Because...because...because being scary isn't everything! Sure, Batman's scary, big deal. But we can be strong even if people aren't scared. If I can do it, so can you. And I know you can do it."

Fox Boy smirked in a friendly way. "Crazy kid. Sign up for Speech and Debate next year. _Please_."

I smiled. "Thank you."

Then I thought I heard something, and in came Batgirl.

"Who's this?" she asked, gesturing to Fox Boy.

Fox Boy pulled off his mask and grinned.

"You?" she hissed in surprise.

"Me. Problem?"

"Yes. You're an asshole, Mason."

"He is not!" I exclaimed.

Barb rolled her eyes. "Well, he's girl-crazy." She poked him in the chest. "Put on your mask, philanderer."

Mason pulled on his mask and resumed using his disguised voice. "Fine."

"Anyway," Batgirl said, "I came to talk to you, Catgirl. I overheard a conversation between the Joker and his new henchgirl."

"_Henchgirl_?!" I exclaimed.

"Henchgirl." Barb nodded gravely. "Look at this."

She held out a copy of yesterday's newspaper and pointed to a slightly hidden article. "Harley Quinn, the Joker's new sidekick, is wreaking havoc. She committed her first crime yesterday by killing an Arkham employee."

Harley Quinn...that name sounded familiar.

"Have I heard that before?" I muttered.

"No," Batgirl said quickly. "God, just when things were the lowest of the low...life is the pits right now."


	52. A Note of Warning

**Chapter Fifty-One: A Note of Warning**

* * *

"We'll stop her. Of course we will," I said.

"Just don't, Catgirl. Please."

Then I...well, I didn't quite _snap__. _

But I felt something lurch inside of me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was yelling.

* * *

"I can't believe this!" I yelled. "Honestly! Superman gets faced with crazy super-powered bald guys, yet heaven forbid some clown take over OUR city! Why...why doesn't anyone _believe_ in **anything** anymore?"

I was breathing hard. "Like, one whack job blows up a building, and everybody loses hope. Why? What about _will_? _Hope_? The **_American Dream_**? What about possibility and 'why do we fall, so we can learn to pick ourselves up'? Am I the only one who gives a darn anymore?!"

I concluded my speech, panting as if I had run a marathon.

* * *

"Whoa," Fox Boy breathed.

"Tell that to the people of Gotham," Batgirl said. "Not us. We're probably the most hopeful teens out there."

"I guess. How do we stop Harley?" I asked.

"We have to find where she is," said Batgirl.

Then I swear I heard something. I started running, only to see a dead man lying before me.

I still get creeped out by dead bodies. They're just so _still_, devoid of all life. It's just _creepy_.

The worst thing is, they never come back.

Even after seeing Grandpa die, and seeing a kid get beaten to death, I still don't think I can handle it.

"GUYS! BODY!" I screamed. Fox Boy and Batgirl came running.

Batgirl knelt down and examined it, then touched something. "Guys, look at this."

It was a note, and it chilled me to the bone.

_Hey, Catgirl! Heard aboutcha from Mistah J. You sound cute! _

_And you've got so many cute little hero friends! I wanna meet you all at 444 Garthville Street tomorrow!_

_Come on! There's gonna be grenades..._

_And if you don't come, somebody's gonna die! HAHAHAHA!_

_Love,_

_Harley_

* * *

444 Garthville Street.

The place near the bank.

"They're having Loeb's funeral there," Fox Boy breathed.

"Somebody's gonna die if we don't come." My voice shook.

"We'll meet up tomorrow," Barb said decisively.

Fox Boy and I smiled and said together, "We wouldn't spend our holiday any other way."

* * *

We interrogated thugs and saved people as usual, and then we went home.

"Adios," Batgirl said, and was gone.

I smiled up at Fox Boy. "See you at the dance."

Then he kissed _me_ on the cheek. "Can't wait." And he was gone.

* * *

Lordy. He kissed me.

_He **kissed** me! _

I felt my entire being light up with giddy joy, and I ran home, an extra spring in my step.

* * *

"I feel like I heard that name before," I confessed to my parents back home. "Harley. I never met the lady, but that name! Harley. Harley..."

"Annie, I need to see your math assignments," Dad interrupted.

I ran and got them, handing them to him.

I probably got a full score just for getting the problems dome, but neither of us cared.

"YES!" Dad yelled. He stared at me. "You may go to the dance."

"YES!" Mom and I screamed, and started randomly dancing.


	53. Dance Preparations and Singing

**Chapter 52: Dance Preparations and Singing**

* * *

I rushed to my closet and surveyed my dress.

It was wonderful. It was hot pink with a small, lacy neckline and scarlet roses at the end of the sleeves and the skirt, and there was a splendid dark ribbon at the waist to tie into a cute little bow.

Mason really was gonna be tickled with me!

Wait, had I done my homework?

I ran to check. Yes, I had done everything-except my science and English homework.

Yay.

So I sat and did the worksheet on sexual and asexual reproduction.

I still didn't quite know what sex was. I had heard stuff around school, but my parents insisted that we would have 'the Talk' when I was 14.

But it sounded disgusting. I certainly wasn't impatient to hear about it.

I still didn't get it. What was making out?

And what was a blowjob? Was it getting your hair dried while doing it?

And was a handjob some sort of secret handshake?

Mom and Dad had grimaced when I'd told them that stuff. They'd said I was way too young for that.

Looking back, it seems weird, because they didn't seem to mind that I liked a boy. I guess they liked romance, but not sex.

That makes sense.

As gross as it sounded, I still _wanted _to know.

Maybe this was what kids my age felt when they dated super-old high school boys or watched R-rated movies.

_It's bad, but we want it anyway._

I shook my head and tried not to think about it. Just having it in my head made me feel sick.

* * *

Anyway, I had another worksheet for English, which I flew through.

I knew what time it was now.

Free time!

I looked through my closet for anything to do when I bumped into something.

* * *

_My guitar_.

I hadn't played it in the longest time. I don't think I'd played it since the beginning of this story.

I had the sudden urge to write a song.

Without another word, I tuned up and started writing.

I remembered that blog, and soon had a song.

It should win a 'Sappiest, Cheesiest Romance Song Ever' Oscar, looking back.

* * *

I **loved** it.

Without further ado, I sang it.

"Lordy! I love this song!" I exclaimed after I was done, and stored the lyrics away in my desk drawer.

Maybe I could sing it for you-know-who after the dance!


	54. The Talk

A/N: Sorry about not updating sooner! *runs from angry fans*

Anyway, I have a lot planned. Warning: this story will probably be long. I'm aiming for 75 chapters, tops, but please don't be surprised if we get another 97-chapter monstrosity.

I hope that does not happen, though!

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Three: The Talk**

* * *

Well, maybe I could show it to Mom and Dad.

I grabbed my guitar, the lyrics, and went to find them.

Mom and Dad were sipping coffee in the kitchen.

"I have something to show you," I said. I sighed, took out my guitar, and began to sing.

* * *

"_All that time, I thought I would never love_," I sang. "_I guess I always felt I'd be single forever_."

Looking back, I face-palmed.

"_And wasn't it funny, how I hated you, and now I stammer whenever I see you_," I sang. Dang, I was good!

Then I jumped into the chorus. "_Dude, I love ya, even though you read Shakespeare! Dude, I love ya, even though you cried once! You're so cute, so funny, and I wonder why anybody would accuse you! I really like how you look at me, and how you like me, too! I wish I could be around you for as long as I want, 'cause I love ya._"

I sang the rest of the song, or as much as I could remember, which was only up till the bridge. I sat there and blushed as I tried unsuccessfully to remember what I'd written next.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly, putting down my guitar unceremoniously.

"Yaaay!" Mom exclaimed, clapping, while Dad said, "Wonderful! Is it about him?"

I nodded. "Everybody at school makes fun of him, but I don't care what they say. I like him!"

Then suddenly, it came back to me.

What was a blowjob?

I still didn't know, and I knew I'd be scarred forever, but I wanted to know.

* * *

"Dad," I said carefully, "what's a blowjob?"

Dad face-palmed.

"Tom," Mom said firmly. He looked up.

"We need to have the Talk with her."

* * *

Before I knew it, I was seated in the TV room with Mom and Dad, apprehensively tapping my fingers on the nearest table.

"We aren't telling you about blowjobs or handjobs or any of that garbage," Dad said. "Just sex."

I gulped. "Okay."

Then Mom started talking. "Okay, so you know that two parents make a baby, right?"

I nodded.

"But how?" she continued.

"Sex," I guessed. Okay, I did know a little about sex. I had watched a video about puberty in science once and inwardly groaned that _I_ was the only girl in class who didn't have a bosom or a period yet.

Anyway, I knew that it was to make babies, but I didn't know much else.

"That's right," she continued. "See, a man has something called sperm start developing when he hits puberty. A woman starts making 'eggs' when she gets her period, but they're practically invisible. Then the man and the woman meet up, and eventually, they sleep together. The sperm reaches the egg, they combine, and start fertilizing into a baby."

"You mean from...there?" I gestured to the place between my legs.

She nodded.

"Ugh!" I groaned. "I really am scarred for life!" Feeling dizzy, I stumbled to my room.

* * *

So THAT was what sex was? I guess I'd known, but...whew!

So Dad and Mom had had sperm and eggs, too...

As if I wasn't already mortified, I just realized something else.

I had no idea how to dance.


	55. The Funeral

A/N: Last chapter was...interesting.

**_I'm surprised it still kept a T rating. _**

I didn't do anything THAT over-the-top, Older Annie.

* * *

**Chapter 54: The Funeral**

* * *

How the heck was I gonna learn to dance?

Also, I was bored as heck.

Also, _the dance was Wednesday_! How was I gonna learn dancing in time?

I wasn't sure what to do.

I decided to sleep. God knows it was late enough.

* * *

The next day, I yawned and pushed myself out of bed.

Wait. It was Wednesday!

It was the holiday! No school!

Without another word, I got back into bed and slept for three hours.

* * *

**_Dream_**

_I blink my eyes open and sit up to see that a super-cute guy-whom I know quite well-is grinning at me. He got old. Like 27 old._

_"Ready to go, Annie?" he says. Oh my god, Mason! I stand up and look at myself to see...that I'm beautiful._

_I'm taller, have a body, and I'm wearing a wonderful white dress. White dress!_

_"I'm getting married!" I scream, and hug Mason._

_He grabs my hands and we dance our way into the reception hall, where there's a pastor and a cake and about a million happy people._

_Mom is sobbing her eyes out in joy, while Dad, whose eyes too are watery, shakes hands with Mason and says to him gruffly, "Come on and we'll go see an A's game, son."_

_"Will do, Dad-in-law," Mason says, and then it happens. _

_We're walking down the altar._

_"Mason Orley, do you take Annie Gaylewood as your lawfully wedded wife, to stick by through sickness and health, high and low, and till death do you part?" the pastor asks, looking very dignified-and hungry._

_"I do," he smiles._

_"And Annie Gaylewood, do you take Mason Orley as your lawfully wedded husband__, to stick by through sickness and health, high and low, and till death do you part_?"

_"I do!" I exclaim eagerly._

_"Then you may kiss the bride. I now pronounce you man and wife."_

_So we kiss enthusiastically while the whole room bursts into applause._

_They shout, "Mason! Annie! Mannieson! Annie! Annie! Annie!"_

* * *

"Annie!" someone yelled. I jumped and woke to see Mom.

"Oh," I said weakly.

"Were you dreaming?" she asked, smiling.

"Yes," I admitted. "Mason and I were getting married..."

"Marry him, my foot! You haven't even gone with him to a dance yet! Anyway, Barbara wants to meet you now as Catgirl."

I shot up out of bed and grabbed my costume. "Thanks, Mom!"

We _were _going to stop the Joker and this Harley. We _were_!

If only I had known that it wasn't that simple...

* * *

"Look out, villains! Here comes Catgirl!" I yelled as I ran through Gotham.

"Yo!" I turned to see Fox Boy, who looked positively pooped.

"Hey! What's the matter?"

"Batman trained me in the art of yoga." He shivered. "Batman can make the calmest sport _ever_ tiring as hell."

* * *

"Hey, where _is _Batman?" As if on cue, our bat friend flew down to meet us.

"Fox Boy," he rasped. "Did you heed my advice?"

"Yes, sir," he muttered. Aw, poor guy.

"Look at this," Batman said, and held up a newspaper. Oddly, it was dated...tomorrow.

"Huh?" I was confused. I'd only seen the Sunday comics dated a day ahead.

"Oh, no," Fox Boy breathed. He touched my arm , turned to the obituary section, and pointed to something scribbled on the paper.

I don't remember the exact wording, but it was near an obituary for the mayor.

What? No! How could this happen?

The thing scribbled on said something along the lines of '_the mayor has taken his last breath-HAHAHAHA! Love, J_'.

"No," I breathed. He killed the mayor!

He couldn't have!

"The mayor isn't dead yet," Batman said firmly. "But the Joker is going to find him."

"Where is he?" My voice grew higher with hysteria.

"At the funeral," a familiar voice said. Batgirl walked up to us. "Come on. We have to go."

"Don't tell me what to do," Batman muttered, and he was gone.

As quickly as he had left, he came back with two awesome motorcycles.

"Hop on," he ordered me, and I did so, still shivering with ecstasy at touching him.

I saw Batgirl get on the other motorcycle, and Fox Boy climb on behind her.

He still had a crush on her. I knew it.

He was looking at her in that way he did when he liked a girl as more than a pal.

He had looked at me like that once. Twice.

Anyway, back to the story and away from my ramblings!

We got the bikes started and raced like the wind to the funeral.

* * *

"Wow," I whispered as I saw the procession. It was probably the biggest crowd I had ever seen.

"Loeb must have been a popular guy," Fox Boy muttered.

_Not to me_, I thought.

There were people everywhere-solemn police officers, reporters, and even a bunch of guys in plaid shorts playing bagpipes.

"Gotta go. Later," Batman said, and walked away. Soon after, I saw Bruce Wayne walking toward a building.

Huh.

It was just the three of us.

"We have to keep our eyes open for the Joker," Batgirl hissed.

Then someone started reciting a speech.

"Commissioner Loeb dedicated his life to law enforcement, and to the protection of his community," the mayor said. I had seen him in the papers.

No, Loeb had said those things...but maybe he wasn't so bad.

Too late. He was dead.

"I remember when I first took office, and I asked him if he wanted to stay on as Commissioner." He said a bunch of other things I couldn't hear.

"Clearly, he was not a man who minced words." No kidding. "Nor should he have been. The number of policies that he enacted as Commissioner were unpopular policies that flooded my office with angry calls and letters...we must remember that vigilance is the price of safety."

If he was trying to insult Fox Boy, Batgirl, and I, he was going to receive a good verbal lashing from me.

The officers yelled a couple things and fired their guns into the air.

"Ready, aim, fire!" Then it happened.

I saw none other than Mr. Gordon dive in front of the mayor...and he got shot.

"NO!" Batgirl screamed.

And for the first time in all the time I had known her, she cried.


	56. Harley Changes Things Horribly

**Chapter Fifty-Five: Harley Changes Things Horribly**

* * *

I patted Batgirl's back and vainly attempted to soothe her while the crowd ran amok. "It's okay, Batgirl, it's okay. He was a good man...he was..." I couldn't believe he was dead. Officer Gordon, that nice man who was just trying to help, was gone.

Gone.

"The Joker did it!" Barb sputtered, still sobbing. "I know he did! He killed Daddy! Oh, the things I'm gonna do to him..."

This Joker guy deserved a good spanking. He was the one who had turned my city upside down.

"I'm so sorry," Fox Boy said helplessly.

Dear reader, I probably hinted at this once before, but Mason doesn't have a mom.

* * *

I know, it's startling. He did have a mom, a very long time ago. She died when he was in second grade.

Seven years ago.

That was the only time I ever saw him cry, when he told me.

"I know how it feels," Fox Boy tried to say.

"Save it, Fox Boy!" Barbara screamed.

I heard gunshots ring out, and my body chilled with raw fear.

"We have to get out of here." Then it came. "No! This is my fault!"

Harley had said that someone was going to die if we didn't come.

_Officer Gordon was dead_.

She must have punished **him_. _**An innocent man killed for something he didn't even do.

It made my blood boil, and the worst part was, I had no one to be angry at but myself.

Had I ever really done _anything _since the beginning of all this? I had saved people, sure, but the Joker was on the loose. Salvatore Maroni was alive.

They were wreaking havoc, _and I hadn't done a thing_.

For once, I wanted to heed what Mason had said. _You have to let it out sometimes. _I wanted to say 'all these rules can go to heck' and _snap_.

I almost thought about doing it. I almost screamed, when I saw that Barbara was still crying.

No. I needed to be strong. For her, and for my city.

I was no wimp. I was freaking Catgirl, and no one was going to mess with who and what I loved and keep his (or her) teeth.

I was going to save this place, and I would start with this chaos.

Without another word, I rushed into the circle and grabbed the nearest cop I could find.

I thought my friends would call me back, but to my joy, they rushed right in with me, and we started dragging people to safety.

Finally, _finally_, I was doing something, and that was a little window of light in this darkness.

It was all I needed.

"Come on, sir! Come on!" Fox Boy exclaimed to a fat cop.

"There's no point. You'll get shot, get outta here," the cop said.

"No, we are gonna save you," Fox Boy said firmly, and we both lifted him to safety.

We ended up saving a good number of cops, but there were many that were dying or already dead. including Officer Gordon.

"Batgirl, I didn't know you-" Fox Boy stated to say.

For the first time in forever, Barb smiled at him. "It's nothing, Foxy. You were gonna find out sometime."

That was probably the nicest she had ever been to him.

Then the three of us took off running to 444 Garthville Street.

* * *

We ended up at a big, dilapidated building. I could practically feel the stench.

Barb pinched her nose shut. "Ugh, do they ever clean up in here? We need to see what this Harley is up to."

"Right. I'll go first." With my overconfidence established, I set foot inside the building.

It was horrible. It smelled of trash, poop, and dirty socks, with vicious-looking rats glowering at us. I glared right back.

"Where is she?" Fox Boy murmured.

"Harley!" I called. "We're here like you said! Where are you?"

No answer. It must have been a hoax.

Then a Jersey-accented voice called, "Oh, you guys! Took you long enough! Comin', _dahlings_!"

We simply stood in shock as two very familiar people came out.

One was the Joker. He must be 'Mistah J'...

The other was...no. No, it couldn't be.

_Harleen Quinzel_.

She was wearing lots of makeup, two blonde pigtails, and a tight red and black suit, but those eyes were unmistakable.

No wonder I had heard that name. Harleen. Harley. _Harley_.

It all made sense.

Harley had been so adamant about keeping him because she _liked_ him, and now they were friends. Partners.

This was the pits.

"Well, hello there, sweeties," the Joker said happily and almost hungrily, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

"Mistah J, these are the little heroes I toldja about! Aren't they cuuute?" Harley cooed.

"We are not cute," Batgirl snapped.

"We are determined to take back Gotham," I piped up.

"Eh, whateva! Mistah J and I are a team now! He does the heavy lifting and I take care of the captives! That means you!"

Oh, no. Oh, no, no.

The Joker smiled evilly and pulled out a gun, pointing it at...Barbara?

"Daddy's girl, aren'tcha?" he said. "Well, your precious pops is dead, and we wouldn't want the world knowing of the suspect, now, would we?"

"Shut up." Barb was using her fake-brave voice, the one she used when she was trying to be strong but was scared stiff. "He's not my father."

The Joker burst out laughing. "You know, once I said that guns were too quick, but sometimes you just need to get it over with."

"If you hurt her, I'll murder you," I threatened.

The Joker laughed again. "Oh, beautiful, I'm not _killing _her. That isn't much _fun_! Instead, I'm making sure she can never move again."

Then he pulled the trigger, and she was thrown back against the wall.

* * *

"Batgirl!" I screamed, and ran to her. "Batgirl, are you okay? Come on, girl! Speak to me!"

Her eyes blinked open and she groaned. "That little bastard...wait."

She tried to move her leg.

"It's not moving," I whispered.

Her eyes widened and filled with fear. "Catgirl...I can't feel my legs. They aren't moving."

And that's when I knew that something horrible had happened.

* * *

A/N: WHEW! That was QUITE a chapter!

So yeah, poor Barb isn't Batgirl :(

But hey, at least she's becoming Oracle! That's still awesome!


	57. Get Her To the Goddamn Batman

**Chapter 56: Get Her To the Goddamn Batman**

* * *

Then Barbara's eyes closed and her breathing stopped, leaving me to stare, astonished and horrified, at what had happened.

"Is she dead?" I whispered.

"I don't know." Fox Boy's voice shook. He had liked Barb for a long time. "I gotta get her to the goddamn Batman. You stay here and fend off the Joker and that crazy chick."

"It's Harley, ya noob!" Harley exclaimed, but he was already running away with an unconscious (possibly dead) Batgirl in his arms.

"Wait!" I yelled. "Let me go with her!"

But he had gone.

I whirled to face Harley and the Joker, feeling...murderous?

Maybe. Maybe I should take that gun and shoot those clowns repeatedly, and watch them die...

No. Killing was wrong.

But they deserved it for all that they had done to my city, and to me.

What would Batman do? Then I had it.

* * *

"Hey, Harley! A flying cream pie!" I called to her.

Look, that was all I could think of, okay? I'm not well-versed in the circus business.

She turned around quickly. "Where? I love me some pie!"

Quickly as I could, I hit her across the head, and she dropped down, clutching her head.

"Excuse me, beautiful, but nobody _touches _her but me," the Joker said smoothly.

"Yeah, no," I snapped. "I don't care what you say or how wise and philosophical you think you are. You hurt, maybe killed, my friend, and nobody hurts my friends and gets away unscathed."

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Your fiery temper is hilarious, cutie, but who's gonna stop _me_? Not when I've got so much evidence on my side. Look at precious Loeb-everybody thinks he was such a great guy, but look at what he said about you!"

True...I had always trusted cops, and Loeb had broken that trust like a twig without even knowing it.

"You see, everybody's a monster. All you need is _one bad day_, just _one little push_, and you'll be just. Like. Me."

One bad day...one little push...just like him. No, no, he was wrong, all wrong!

"That only happens to people who can't make it through," I snapped. "I've been through a lot, you overly arrogant and fake-wise clown. Nobody has to go down into madness. They can rise, rise above."

"Oh, but you _haven't_, dearie!" He seemed to find this gloriously funny, bursting into hysterical laughter. "You're coming down here with that accent and that costume and that fire in your eyes because you don't have courage. You have bravado. Ah, well, bravado's fun! It's _wonderfully _fun to find a really cocky kid and _crush the fire out of him with my trusty knife_."

"I'm a girl," I retorted, but I was getting scared. What if he was right? What if I _did _only have cockiness and bravado? I had those, no duh, but what if that was all?

Then I responded the only real way I knew how.

I slapped him.

As I heard the _whack! _of my hand against his greasy white cheek, I felt alive for the first time in a very long time.

I didn't care that my hand dripped with gross, sweaty white paint. I had done it.

I had slapped the Joker.

"Oh, oh, a little fight in you. I like that," he grinned.

Harley stood up in an instant and grabbed me in a chokehold.

"Stay away from my Mistah J!" she snarled.

* * *

"And stay away from my Catgirl, Miss Quinzel."

I almost screamed in joy-and dizziness from lack of air. Batman was here.

I could hardly breathe, though, so I just smiled as he swooped in and calmly pried Harley off of me.

"Where's Fox Boy?" he asked.

"Something happened to Batgirl," I said breathlessly. "He wanted to take her to you."

"Right. Meet me in the forbidden room after this." Then he handed me something. "A frying pan, yes. Whack these guys with it and see what happens."

Then he was gone.

"You little bitch!" Harley screamed, and ran at me.

Closing my eyes, I whacked in front of me as hard as I could, and heard a groan. I opened my eyes to see that she was unconscious.

Feeling power flow through my veins, I reached out and whacked the joker too.

I liked this tool!

Now I had to meet Batman.


	58. Tragedy in Spite of This

**Chapter Fifty-Seven: Tragedy In Spite of This**

* * *

I stared for one more moment at the unconscious bodies of the Joker and Harley, then got the heck out of there.

I ran and ran. I felt like I was going on forever and ever and that nothing was there except this city.

Then I finally reached Wayne Manor.

Great. Now what?

I'd have to do something. Gulping, I hid near the door, when Alfred opened it.

"Alfred," I hissed, watching his bewildered face. "I gotta come in."

Alfred saw me. "Oh, please do. Master Bruce is expecting you." And like the nice old man he was, he led me inside.

He didn't remind me of Grandpa-Grandpa was not a regal man. He had been excitement, passion, and bravery in one old package.

Alfred was manners and formality, and also humor.

We reached the forbidden room, and my heart thumped as I zoomed down to the cave.

* * *

"Annie." Bruce's voice startled me as I walked inside the cave.

"Yes?" I whispered.

He turned to me, his face grave. Oh, no.

No, no, no.

"According to my observations, she'll live."

I mentally cheered-until he spoke again.

"But her legs are permanently paralyzed. She will be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. In short...she can never walk again."

I just stared at him. He couldn't be serious. My spirited, funny, stubborn best buddy, never walking again? Having to spend her entire life in a wheelchair? No, he was wrong. He was joking!

"N-no. This can't be happening. You're wrong!" I yelled. "You're joking! This is all a big prank! Well, it isn't funny, Bruce!"

"Calm. Down." His voice had gone menacingly dark, and it scared me into silence. "I _never _joke about injuries. I am damn serious, and you better be too."

I sighed. "I know. We have to take down the Joker." My voice trembled. "This is all his fault."

_Don't cry. Be strong, you can get through this._

And I would not cry. It was going to be okay.

"You mean she'll never be Batgirl again?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "She'll have to do something else. I won't kick her out-she's a good smart girl."

That she was.

Then randomly, I realized that I still didn't know how to dance.

That was one thing I had to learn.

"Bruce, I'm going to a dance tomorrow. I need to learn some moves."

"Well, that was quick."

"I need to think of something happy."

"Fine. The waltz."

And so we did the waltz, Bruce muttering about how I was going with the wrong guy.

After about five tries, I had it down.

"Thanks," I said quietly, and left.

* * *

I got home and changed, then checked to make sure that all my homework was done. Thank God, it was.

I didn't talk to my parents; I just went to sleep.

I didn't want to talk. I needed to be alone with my thoughts.


	59. I Am the Batman

**Chapter 58: I Am the Batman**

* * *

The next day, I was woken up by my great alarm clock. I immediately got dressed.

According to flyers around school, the dance was at seven PM.

I'd have to take a day off from Catgirl.

I bet I could.

I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a ponytail, then rushed to eat.

Mmm, I smelled bacon! That ought to be good!

Then I ran into Mom on the couch, watching the news. Harvey Dent was on TV!

"Mom, what's that?" I asked her.

She looked up at me. "It's Harvey dent's press conference."

I sat on the arm of the sofa and watched along with her.

"...that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done," Harvey was saying. The crowd seemed pleased.

"Secondly, the Batman has offered to turn himself in."

"WHAT?!" I screamed, missing a little bit of the rest. Batman turn himself in? Why? He was the one who was helping. If anything, that Joker bastard should be arrested.

Mom angrily hushed me, and sheepishly, I kept watching.

"But first, let's consider the situation. Should we give in to these terrorist demands? Do we really think that-"

"You would rather protect an outlaw vigilante than the lives of citizens?" one woman said loudly.

Ohhh, god, she was lucky Catgirl hadn't gone to eavesdrop, or she'd be hauled off to intensive care.

What. A. B-word.

Even worse, the crowd started agreeing!

"The Batman is an outlaw," Harvey said determinedly. "But that's not why we're demanding he turn himself in. We're doing it because we're scared. We've been happy to let the Batman clean up our streets for us until now."

"Things are worse than ever!" some guy called. What was this, _Batman Sucks_ Day? What a bunch of imbeciles.

The crowd agreed-again.

"Yes, they are," Harvey admitted. "But the night is darkest just before the dawn. I promise you, the dawn is coming."

I knew he was right. He would never give up, and neither would I. He was a good man, and I would help him. Everything was going to be fine. It would.

I didn't know how wrong I was about him.

"One day, the Batman will have to answer for the laws he's beoken." Oh, God. I swear... "But to us. Not to this madman."

This madman had paralyzed my best friend. He was going to get HURT. Big time.

"No more dead cops!" a guy called.

"Yeah!" some cops shouted.

I agreed with that. Cops shouldn't die needlessly. But it wasn't Batman's fault. I knew it wasn't.

The entire audience started to applaud.

"Take the Batman into custody," Harvey said. Oh, no.

What he said next shocked me.

"I am the Batman."

I knew he wasn't. I had known Batsy for a long time. He wasn't Dent.

But why? Why did he help us?

Then the answer came, and I smiled.

Because he was our friend.

I smiled even when he got cuffed by the police. Harvey was our chum, and he would never let us down.

How wrong I had been...


	60. Mr Agarwal's Love Life

**Chapter Fifty-Nine: Mr. Agarwal's Love Life**

* * *

I was interrupted by knocking. "Hello? I'm looking for Annie!"

I laughed, grabbed my backpack, and bounded to the door. I opened it to see him.

He smiled a little at me. "Come on."

The two of us bounded to Aunt Cara's car. It was still the same old brown-beige creaky mess that I remembered.

"Want the same old Faith Hill?" Aunt Cara grunted as we piled inside. "Or something else?"

"Do you have Carrie Underwood?" I said hopefully. After the suckiness of the past few days, I needed something inspiring from her.

"Uh, let's see...yes. Her song _Before He Cheats_." She put it on, and I was totally surprised.

Wow. That was some SERIOUS rock.

"Did I ever tell you about my current crush on Carrie Underwood?" Mason smirked.

"WHAT?!" I yelled.

"Don't worry; I still like you."

Pushing my buttons, huh! Jerk.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and he laughed.

"Carrie Underwood is satisfactory," Aunt Cara grunted.

"No way! Her voice is incredible!" I exclaimed.

"Annie, you have a lot to learn."

I guess I did.

I didn't know then just _how _much I had to learn. Especially a new dancing phenomenon that nearly spoiled the dance for me.

But let's get back to the story.

"Blacksmith, tell her."

"What, Aunt Cara?"

"About Carly."

"Carly?"

Carly? That was his mom!

"She already knows, Aunt Cara."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's fine. it doesn't make me any worse than anyone else. Lots of normal people don't have mothers."

"True," Aunt Cara replied. "We're here."

And so we were. I looked up at the looming buildings of my school, trying not to think about what had happened yesterday.

"Gotta go to P.E.," I said, and the bell rang. I bid goodbye to Aunt Cara and Mason, and was off.

* * *

Mr. Smithes tried to get our attention, but everybody was talking about the dance.

"I got asked to the dance by Nate!" Charlotte gushed.

Oh, Nate. He was in my social studies class. Nice guy, and cute too. But he wasn't my type, so to speak.

"Great!" I exclaimed.

They didn't hear.

"Great!" I said again. "Mason asked me."

Charlotte and her companion stared at me like I'd just declared I could fly.

"Mason asked you?" Charlotte was blushing.

"_You_?" her friend exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes, why?" I was confused. Of course he did! Then I got it. "Charlotte, do you _like_..."

"I did," she interrupted, blushing even harder. "I wanted to be Scarlett because he was Rhett. I liked him for a long time."

"Oh," I whispered. How did I miss that? Charlotte had liked Mason, and I hadnt even looked at any of it! "Sorry...you can date him if you want..."

She smiled. "It's fine. Nate is an awesome guy, and he's my age! Besides, Mason is kind of a player."

"Yeah, but he's great, I promise you!" But they were already gone.

Great. My friend had liked the guy I liked, and now she thought he was a player.

This was just _peachy_.

* * *

After P.E., it was time for math, where poor Madame Depaul had to silence us all, because we were so busy talking about the dance.

Then it was science.

"Well, since it's dance day, why don't I tell you about my first date?" Mr. Agarwal asked us.

"This oughta be good!" Parveen whispered excitedly, rubbing her hands together.

Mr. Agarwal had gone on a _date_? My teacher liked _girls_?

That didn't fit in my mind. Mr. Agarwal wasn't that sort.

"It's a funny story, actually," he continued. "So I was majoring in Biochemistry in an Indian college back in 1978. Or was it 1979? Anyway, finals were coming, and a couple of fellows were debating whether to take it and fail or bunk altogether."

"What does bunk mean?" the entire class, except Parveen, said.

Parveen smiled. "It's the Indian way of saying 'cut class'."

"Very good!" Mr. Agarwal praised her. I bet she was his favorite student. I could see why-they were both Indian.

Of course, he liked me, too. Just not how sometimes I just lazed through exams.

"So I was one of the guys who decided to take it, and I had studied, but I was still so nervous I was sweating the day of the exam. I had to bring a water bottle out of sheer anxiety, and then I was going to the test room when I felt a drip on my foot. My water bottle was leaking. I rushed to a secluded corner and tried to get water from the water fountain when somebody handed me a bottle. It was this really pretty girl who I recognized from class. Turns out she was so nervous she needed a water bottle, too! We talked, and took the test, and then I asked her on a date."

He bowed a little, and the entire class clapped, including Parveen and I.


	61. The Dance

**Chapter 60: The Dance**

* * *

We did eventually have to work. Of course. School is for learning, after all.

But it was _very _hard to concentrate due to my excitement about the dance, and the occasional negative thoughts about yesterday.

I remember that I was talking to Parveen, and then I put my head down, and then somebody was rapping on my desk with a ruler.

"Annie! Wake up!" _What_? I slept in _class_?

Mortified, I shot my head up, slamming my head into the back of the chair.

The entire class burst out laughing, except Parveen. She smiled, but gave me the thumbs-up.

Life sure sucked sometimes. But hey, the dance was coming!

* * *

Now it was lunchtime. I had two apples, one bag of baby carrots, and a ham-and-cheese sandwich.

Some things never change.

Well, I liked ham and cheese. Best for last.

I eagerly bit into my apple, anticipating the dance. For the first time in forever, I'd be dancing. With a real, live boy. A boy whom I liked, and who liked me back.

Folks, this was perfect.

I just wish Barbara could dance too...

It sucked. She was seventeen, a junior. Not here. In a more prestigious school.

But she could have danced too. Now she would have to sit in a wheelchair and watch John dance with somebody else.

Poor Barb. I was glad that hadn't happened to me.

Anyway, I still couldn't wait, and excitedly finished my lunch. Now full and still excited, I went to look for anyone to talk to.

Mason was God-knows-where. Charlotte was talking to her cool friends, who didn't quite like me.

Sometimes it was like nobody liked me.

Suddenly, overwhelmingly, I wished Bruce was here. I don't know why. I wanted to talk to that guy, I guess.

But he didn't come, and Mason didn't magically swoop me off my feet, and I was doomed to spend the rest of lunch by myself, staring off into space and dreaming about adventures and fantastical lands. Lands far beyond my city, far beyond all this tragedy and fear and chaos.

I blinked, feeling my eyes get wet. Ugh! No crying! Why was I _crying_? I was lucky as heck! I had a date, and Charlotte was my friend, and Barb was alive!

I needed to pull myself together, and that I did.

But sometimes you're too busy holding it in, and then, just at the wrong time, you snap, everything rushing out like a waterfall. You know?

"Hey, you okay?" I looked up to see a cute boy standing near me, looking concerned. Hey, wasn't he from English class?

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little jittery." Oddly, I didn't feel nervous, although he was really cute. I had Mason, and he had me.

"I know the feeling. What's your name?"

"Annie." I didn't want to give much else.

"Tim Drake. Hey, you're that kid from English! You're hilarious! See you." And he was gone.

Tim Drake. What a nice name!

* * *

After that, it was time for English.

"Hey, Cathy!" I greeted Cathy as I went to sit down in my seat.

"Yo," she replied with a nod. The great Leland walked in right after me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi, Leland. Cathy, I can't wait for the dance!"

"Leland asked me, as usual." But she seemed happy, contrary to her bored words.

"Well, of course I did, babe," Leland grinned, and they sat down together, hands touching.

Awwwww!

Mrs. Smithes clapped her hands. "Now if you're all done talking of the great sacred Spring Dance today, I have an announcement to make; the project."

I gasped and listened. The project she had told us about!

"We are going to make a film out of Thomas Wayne's life!"

The entire class cheered.

"We'll pick roles on Thursday." She started passing out papers, which I saw were copies of the instructions for the project.

Apparently, we would get into groups, and each make a film based on what we'd read so far. That was his childhood.

It would be dubbed Part 1. We would do the same for the next part, and so on, until each group had a complete movie. The script would be done in class, but the props and costumes had to be done outside of class.

Wow! Awesome!

"You will be graded on quality, creativity, filming prowess, faithfulness to and knowledge of the source material, yadda yadda. And the group with the best film gets extra credit!"

Fair enough.

My parents would like that.

* * *

Of course, then I went to social studies, you get the idea, and then...

RINNNGGGG! Dismissal time!

"Oh my gosh. I cannot _wait_!" I kept saying to myself as I walked, until I bumped into someone-someone wearing very familiar cologne.

* * *

"Dude!" Mason exclaimed, whirling to see me.

"I am so EXCITED!" I exclaimed back. "I know the waltz! Ain't that great?"

"God, finally, somebody else is old-fashioned! One piece of advice; there will be a big circle of people there. Whatever you do, _do not go in it_. Do not. You will be scarred for life." He shivered.

Then Aunt Cara's clunky old Honda pulled up.

"See ya!" And he was gone.

Awwww, what a great guy! I liked him so much!

But what was so bad about the circle of people?

* * *

"Mason is right," Dad said as we drove. "It's a newfangled dance phenomenon. It started around the 70s, and that's why I wouldn't go to too many school dances in the 80s."

"Wow," I said.

"Yes." Dad shuddered. "I still remember walking into that circle, and screaming and running the heck out of there."

Wow. Again.

Ah, well. The dance was soon!

* * *

At home, my parents forced me to do my math and science homework. The horror!

"No! Not more pre-algebra!" I shrieked in mock agony, until Dad smirked and pointed to my worksheet. I sighed and struggled through the problems.

"When's he picking me up?" I asked Mom, who was folding clothes.

"His father said he'll come at six," Mom replied. "It's five-thirty, young lady."

"WHAT?!" I screamed. "Then I gotta get ready!" I rushed to my room.

* * *

I slipped into my new dress, admiring the pretty roses and lace and flowy skirt.

I went to the bathroom, washed my face with soap, and got to work. I put on lots of black mascara, a soft rose eyeshadow, and some bright red lipstick. I also powdered on some foundation. I was allowed to use makeup sparingly, and only for special occasions.

I looked great!

At that moment, after I'd brushed my teeth and combed my hair, I heard someone knocking. I rushed into the family room.

It was him! But I didn't have any shoes.

"MOM!" I yelled. "I need shoes!"

Mom simply tossed me a pair of pink, strappy heeled sandals.

Now I felt grown-up! I was going to my very first school dance.

This was gonna be epic!

* * *

"Mason! Great to see you!" Mom exclaimed, and I gasped. Mason was in a tuxedo, and his hair was slicked back.

He had always looked older than he was, but now he looked old.

Like high school old.

And not just in a good way-a wonderful, lively way. A handsome way.

"Great to see you too, Mrs. Gaylewood. If you don't mind my asking, have you seen Annie?"

I decided to be funny, and walking regally over with my nose up like a queen, I said in a 'deep' voice, "You called?"

Mason looked over Mom to see me. "Why, yes, I did..._whoa_."

The poor guy just gaped at me. I felt _hot_.

Dad glowered at him.

"You look beautiful," Mason breathed.

"T-thanks. You look really cute too." Well, no _duh_. I really needed boy help. Big time.

"Just go, lovebirds," Dad huffed. Poor guy.

Mason and I linked arms, and walked out to a taxi.

"Stay safe!" Mom called.

"Don't get killed!" Dad called.

"Yes, sir!" Mason called back.

"We will, Mom!" I called back to her, and we stepped inside, and we were off.

* * *

I felt just like Cinderella; being whisked off to the ball with the prince.

Except we were in a taxi. And I'd known said prince for nearly a year.

"Dude, want to come over to my house after the dance?" Mason asked.

"Sure!" I exclaimed. "But Mom and Dad..."

He calmly held up a phone.

"You think of everything!" I squealed.

We sat in silence until he started whistling the Star Wars theme.

"You know that movie?"

"Of course! Han Solo is the best. Come to think of it, why not you watch it with me when you come over?"

"Awesome!" I had never seen Star Wars. Heard about it, yes. But seen it? No.

I felt so out of it right then.

But hey, the great Mason would help me! And Han Solo sounded AWESOME.

At last, we reached the school, and I gasped.

* * *

It was all lit up with lights, and I could hear the giggling of people and their dates, and it didn't look like my middle school at all. It looked like a magical paradise.

"They outdid themselves," Mason observed.

"Sure did," I breathed, and he offered his elbow to me.

We linked arms and got out of the taxi.

The dance was in the gym, and we walked there.

"I feel so adult," I whispered. "Actually going to a dance."

Then he opened the door. "After you."

I giggled and walked in-and I couldn't believe my eyes.

The gym had gone from our sweaty, vigorous old gym to...to beautiful.

There were multicolored lights strung up on the walls, which were painted a light blue, and there was soft fake grass under my feet. There were huge snack tables, to my joy, and a huge dance floor with couples already dancing, and video games in the corner.

"Mason, you gotta come in here!" I hissed excitedly. "It's beautiful!"

Then I noticed the circle. I had seen it already, but now I did a double take.

In the corner of the dance floor, there was a huge circle of kids. The circle that would scar me for life.

Mason had already walked in. "Wow. They did well."

Then he saw the circle. "Annie, do not go in there. DO NOT."

"But I want to see!" I argued.

"No. It's horrible." He shivered. "Do you want to dance or eat?"

"Eat!" I exclaimed, and he laughed. We linked arms again and walked to the food table.

"Wow!" I gasped. There were millions of dishes; grilled cheese sandwiches, hot dogs, Jolly Ranchers, and more!

Mason immediately grabbed a plate and took three hot dogs.

"Hey!" I said jokingly, and took two grilled cheese sandwiches. We stood there, ate, and talked.

"Wanna know a secret?" He leaned in and whispered, "I didn't know how to dance until Aunt Cara taught me!"

I burst out laughing, nearly choking on my sandwich. "_Aunt Cara_ can dance?!"

"Would you believe it, she can!" He shook his head. "I swear, the secrets people have!"

I nodded as we finished our food. "Want to dance?" I felt myself blush. I considered myself pretty brave, but talking to a boy was worse than fighting thugs. Way worse.

"Thought you'd never ask!" He took my hand and led me onto the dance floor, sending chills down my spine.

A song started playing, a song that sounded very old. I liked it right away! Except that it sounded kind of sexual.

Mason put his hands on my waist and shoulder, and I put mine where they were supposed to go...and then it just happened.

We danced.

Slow at first, and then we started going faster and more energetically until we were dancing more enthusiastically than anyone else there!

It was great.

We danced and danced, laughing and tripping over our feet sometimes, but overall, it was splendid.

I felt so different. I, Annie Gaylewood, the girl known for her aversion to guys, was dancing with a hot guy. A hot guy I liked.

I felt good. I felt older.

Then suddenly, too quickly, people started filing out.

"Gotta go, Annie." Mason extricated himself from me, then offered his elbow to me, which I took, and we walked out.

* * *

I couldn't stop smiling and laughing. I had been at a dance! My very first school dance, and it had been spectacular!

"Hey, you didn't go into the circle! You have learned well, young padawan." Oops, I forgot!

"Is that from Star Wars?"

"You bet!" Then he pulled out his phone and dialed my parents' number and called them. "Yeah, Annie's coming to my house. We are going to watch Star Wars, and you can pick her up at eleven thirty. Bye." He hung up, and then Aunt Cara's car pulled up.


	62. Han Solo and a Kiss

**Chapter Sixty-One: Han Solo and a Kiss**

* * *

Mason and I took the taxi to his house.

"Evening," Aunt Cara greeted us. "Star Wars is already starting."

"Oh, god!" Mason exclaimed, and he ran to the kitchen. I looked around.

I remembered this place...duh. It was a small house, almost as small as an apartment, with peeling wall paint and a carpet gray with dirt.

It was a good place. I knew he was poor, but I was used to it now.

Then I saw him rush to the TV room with the popcorn, and joined him.

I still feel this magical feeling when I watch movies. There's just something about them that makes me feel like I'm being transported to a whole new world, an epic adventure. You know?

I remember talking throughout the entire movie, going "So that's who Obi-Wan is!" and "Get 'em, Leia!"

But one man got me talking a lot.

I don't know-his drawl, his walk, his awesomeness, his VOICE-they all drove me crazy.

I elbowed Mason. "Who's he?"

"Him? That's Han Solo!"

HAN SOLO?!

"He's cute." I giggled like a drunk lunatic, all through the movie, whenever I saw glimpses of this Han Solo.

The film was great-truly a classic. It looked kinda old and grainy, but old stuff was splendid!

We clapped at the end of the film, with me still giggling over Han Solo. Man, he was cute...

Then I had to leave.

* * *

"See you," I giggled, standing on the doorstep.

"Yep." He was just about to turn and leave, when I just thought something. Just...why not?

Then I walked toward him, and kissed him right on the mouth.

Something happened that day which I can't quite put into words. It was a feeling unlike any feeling I had ever felt before, and it only amplified when he kissed me back.

Also, I didn't have any trouble. It was almost as if my mouth knew exactly where to go.

Whatever it is, I broke away, smiling with sheer joy. Not because I wanted to quit, but because my parents were there in the car.

"See you," I murmured again, and he put his hand on my hair, stroking it.

Oh, God in heaven. Could I marry this boy already?!

Then he smiled, and was gone.

"Don't forget to remember me," I whispered, and went to the car.

* * *

"You kissed a boy?!" Dad yelled.

"You kissed a boy! Mason, at that!" Mom exclaimed.

"But...but she kissed a boy!" Dad yelled again.

I just grinned, and when I was home, I ran to my room.

Time for Catgirl.

Even though I just wanted to sleep.

* * *

I ran through the night as Catgirl...when I saw something.

There was a huge truck, and police cars were following it.

I wasn't stupid. Something had gone wrong, and the guy in the truck must be a fugitive.

But what was all this?

No, I had no time to worry about that now.

I was Catgirl, and I was going to help.

But how? That was the question.


End file.
